


Demento

by RenaiRin



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Akira can sing damnit, Akira is the name and Pain is my game, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And Then Some, Angst, Angst and Humor, Body Horror, Character Study, Dark, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Explicit Sexual Content, Exploration of game mechanic, Graphic Scenes, Graphic depictions of violence - Freeform, Horror, Hurt, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Torture, Mental Health Issues, Nightmares, Not entirely sure if this has relationships or not, Other, Pain, Paranoia, Potential trigger warning, Previous Tags are for the canon interrogation room scene., Psychological, Psychological Horror, Psychological Trauma, Read at Your Own Risk, Sad, Sexual Content, Tags to be added, This has everything I'm not joking., Trauma, Violence, Will have a music playlist for reader's pleasure., You think it this has it, no comfort, not yet anyway, psychotic breaks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-03-28 13:46:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 54,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13905285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenaiRin/pseuds/RenaiRin
Summary: What exactly happens when Akechi casts a Psychotic Breakdown on someone?Akira's about to find out.(WARNING:GRAPHIC CONTENT. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED)





	1. Demento

**Author's Note:**

> Hello. Welcome to your worst nightmare you never knew you wanted.
> 
> But it's here, so thank me later.
> 
> **WARNING: CONTAINS VAST AMOUNTS OF _GRAPHIC CONTENT_. All kinds. I'm serious. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.**  
>  I did not add any tags that would spoil the madness and fucked-up things I have in store. Just trust me, this is very dark and horrible. It has the Horror tag for a reason.  
>  **  
> **  
>  _IT IS HIGHLY ADVISED TO READ THIS ALONG WITH THE MUSIC PLAYLIST. It will set the mood._  
>  ****  
>  __  
> https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLoKbkfcAOcKNK9mbCgMWIUfetJX3ouPNP  
>  _Just let the playlist run. It should be sufficient enough for this entire chapter. There will be only two songs with lyrics, and they are very minimal. It shouldn't be be a problem during the reading. I do not own the music._
> 
> Thank you for reading and enjoy~

When the darkness shifted, and Akira realized he had come to, there was a soft and gentle touch upon his face. He could see nothing, even as he blinked the sleep from his eyes, but he did feel his eyelashes brush against something. _A…Hand?_ He thought tiredly, a small groan left his mouth before he could stop it. He went to move his hand up to his face, but instead felt another hand upon his own and it rooted itself firmly in place, keeping him pinned. A rustle beneath him let him know he was lying in someone’s lap, his head resting comfortably on warm fabric. Though he could see nothing, and smell nothing, he did hear the small sigh emanating from the person above him. Akira opened his mouth to speak but was immediately silenced by the metallic taste on his tongue. Was he bleeding? He couldn’t tell. If so there was no pain. As he rolled his tongue around the inside of his mouth, checking for wounds of any kind, the person above him decided to start speaking. 

“Sometimes you’re more trouble than your worth, Joker.” 

It sounded like Akechi, and Akira made note to breathe a confused sigh into the air. He tried again to move his hands but they felt heavy and cold as ice. In fact, he noticed his whole body was quite cold and he was already shivering. As far as he could tell his metaverse outfit was still on, which meant his usual black tailcoat was still intact, but he likened the feeling of cold to that of having been swimming in ice water for a while. Akira curled his fingers and found it took a considerable amount of effort to accomplish. This was unlike him, even in the metaverse. Had something happened? Why couldn’t he remember? Why were they even there in the first place? Akira was sure for some reason they were in the metaverse but the atmosphere felt off. It was quiet and he could hear no such thing as subway tracks screeching or shadows moaning. There was no other presence in the room aside from Akechi, but even his presence wasn’t quite right. _Everything’s off…_ Once he cleared his mind of the worrisome thoughts, he opened his mouth to speak to the brunette in the room. 

“Crow, what’s going on?” The hand over Akira’s eyes shifted, but still kept their place blocking out light. 

“You’ll see soon enough. Just wait.” 

“I don’t understand,” Akira tried to shift his weight upwards, to push himself off of the floor and out of Akechi’s grasp. “Explain yoursel-“Akira tried to continue, but a sharp piercing pain erupted from the left side of his stomach, and he found himself gasping inward for air. His free hand reached out to grab at his side, but as soon as he tried to move upwards he was pushed down again; this time by a hand pressing down firmly on his chest. The person beneath him shifted and finally the hand above his eyes was removed, a bright blue light blinding him for a split second. He blinked slowly, grimacing as the pain that was in his side deepened. Looking around for a second he found the familiar blue hues of the Velvet Room surrounding himself and framed perfectly above his face was Akechi’s, but he had a serious look upon it as he stared into Akira’s slate grey eyes. Akechi’s own eyes were an intense, but dull crimson. They almost looked dead. _Why is he staring at me like that?_ As the white static pain shot through his body once more, Akira broke eye contact with Akechi and looked down at his torso, gasping at the sight before him. 

Inside his abdomen was his own dagger, jutting out at a slightly awkward angle. Blood poured from the side of the wound in streams, mixing with the grey of his waistcoat and turning it a sickly cherry color. He noticed a gloved hand was grasping at the blade, inching it further within him. A pained gasp echoed through the room as the knife bore deeply into his flesh, and when tilted his head back towards the culprit holding the knife, tears began to form in the corners of his eyes. 

“A-Akechi!” Forgetting code names altogether, Akira desperately reached and clutched Akechi’s hand, keeping the latter from pushing the dagger any deeper within him. A sickening smile spread across Akechi’s face, just shy of appearing insane altogether. 

“Try not to move around so much. You’ll just make it worse.” Akechi cooed into the raven-haired boy’s ear. He had to close his eyes for a moment to regain some semblance of composure. The cold blade stung in his skin and fire seemed to burn him from within. It was hard not to cry out in pain, but Akira needed to stay calm and think his way through the situation. 

“Why did you d- _do_ this?” Akira rasped. He knew Akechi had his issues; he had tried to kill him before, but this time around seemed more like foreplay to a greater event. If Akechi really wanted him dead, why not just shoot him? Everything about this was w r o n g. 

A light chuckle filled the air, out of place among the silence and the face that it belonged to. Akechi continued to stare at Akira with that twisted calm demeanor about him. 

“That’s simple.” Akechi leaned forward, a bloody gloved hand resting on the side of Akira’s face, “I wanted to see the look on your face, lit up in pain. I wanted to see what it looked like when your eyes were filled with fear.” Akechi slowly thumbed the side of Akira’s face, smearing the blood around and playing with it before gasping at his chin, forcing his head to tilt as far back at it would go into Akechi’s lap. Their eyes met and kept contact as Akechi’s grin grew wide, showing off pearly white teeth. 

“I wanted to take away the one _thing_ that you have the most of: Control.” Akechi spat out the final word like fire. His face was contorted in anger, eyes still staring deep into Akira’s own. It felt like the room was burning up into flames around them, but when Akira tried to move his head to the side and check, Akechi held it firmly in place--still tilted back at a painful angle. 

Control? Akira was trying hard not to gag. The sickening smell of metal and warm blood wafted through the air and into his nostrils. The small chuckle Akechi’s throat produced rung in his ears like a broken, out-of-tune bell. The bright light that hung above their heads made Akira dizzy and danced random colored stars through his vision. All of the sensations, the overwhelming stimuli; was sickening. If this was what Akechi meant by losing control, he was doing a pretty damn good job of it. 

“Why? W-What could you possibly gain…from _this_?” Akira hissed, a grimace stuck to his face where the blood had been smeared. Akechi was still toying with it, circling his fingers around slowly, gathering some of the pooled blood onto the discolored fabric. Akira could feel a wet, metallic taste as the brunette ran such a finger slowly over the bottom of his lips. He tried his best to reach up and grab Akechi’s hand, to force him to stop, but he was already so weak. The wound in his side wasn’t the initial cause, he presumed, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t going to add to the problem. The freezing air in the room permeated Akira’s bones and the shivering he had already been doing grew more violent. Akechi saw this and hummed to himself, pulling Akira closer into his lap, his bloody hand returning to the top of Akira’s head where he rested the warm appendage on the boy’s forehead, underneath the ebony curls of hair. Akira finally noticed the absence of their masks. Where were they? Akira knew they were wearing their metaverse outfits, so they must be in the metaverse. Yet for some odd reason, he couldn’t feel any of his personas. It was almost as if they had been clouded over in his soul. Something was keeping him from summoning them, but he did not know what. Another pained cry fell from his lips and Akechi yanked the dagger out of his side, allowing the blood to spill out freely on the floor. 

“I gain exactly what I want: I want to see you broken, helpless, and empty. Just. Like. _Me_.” Akechi’s voice grew more sinister the more he spoke. A dark, tall, menacing figure appeared behind Akechi, the violent wind coming from it blowing out into the room. Akira’s eyes opened wide. Was it Robin Hood? No…It was a completely different figure altogether. He had not seen this one before. Was it a Persona? If so, where did it come from? Who was summoning it? If Akechi had done so, Akira did not hear the older boy call out its name. The figure was teetering on the blunt end of what seemed to be a cane, one leg propped up on the other, and its head resting on one of its hands. The creepy clown-like grin covering its face was the only part Akira could make out clearly. It was covered head to toe in purple, grey, green, and blue stripes. The figure laughed heartily, muttering something in gibberish before Akechi smirked, the hand he had resting on the younger boys forehead tensed for a second. 

“You know what to do, Loki.” Akechi cooed, a crooked smile plastering his face as Akira felt a surge of energy ignite the room and suddenly he felt a thousand different sensations at once. He was on fire, skin burning and scorched flesh scented the air around him. Then he was frozen solid, a cold so intense and deep wrapped around his body like a blanket. The numbing sensation grew to the point where Akira could not feel his body at all, amidst the pain that encompassed his form. Again he felt another sensation, this time electricity running sharp through his body and one moment of pure heat and friction later he could no longer tell if he was breathing. Each second that passed a new wave of pain and sensation filled his body and mind. It did not matter what it was, but each and every single time he could feel immense amounts of pain erupt from his body. Blood stained the air and he thought he could hear bones breaking through the high pitch that was sounding off into the room. He had started screaming from the assault on his senses. 

“How does it feel?” Akechi asked, tilting his head to one side as the boy beneath him writhed in pain. The frantic sobbing and bloodcurdling screams echoed into the room, each one seemed to be louder than the last. 

All of the sudden, Akira’s pain was gone. He slumped back to the floor from the arch his body had been in, gasping for air. His heartbeat drummed in his ears and he could no longer see in front of him. The world had become black. The small grunts and whimpers he let out into the air were the only sounds in the room. Akira noticed he did not feel the warmth that was once beneath him anymore. He reached a hand out into the darkness, but it was met with nothing but empty air. Was he blind? No, that couldn’t be it. He could see the faint silhouette of his outstretched hand. If he wasn’t blind then where was the light from before? Where was Akechi? Akira had a strong feeling he was not in the Velvet Room anymore. 

Suddenly the room lit up. He was sitting propped up against a nearby wall, his one hand was covering where the knife wound used to be, but it was no longer there. He blinked a couple of times, adjusting to the sudden influx of light and focused his eyes around the room. One by one, his friends lay upon the floor. Bloody. Broken. The scent of singed flesh and fresh blood threatened to evoke vomit from Akira as he raised a hand to cover his mouth. 

Ryuji was face down on the floor in his metaverse outfit, blood pooling out from his chest. Various cuts and bruises littered his skin where the fabric of his clothes had been torn and shredded. Ann was lying on her side next to Ryuji, her once blonde hair had been stained a dark sticky red. Her mask lay shattered beside her head, which was facing Akira, eyes cold and lifeless, with one of her arms positioned in front of her chest at an awkward angle. Yusuke and Haru’s lifeless bodies were back-to-back, a silver blade sticking through them both, keeping them together. Yusuke’s hair covered his face, but blood was still dripping down from it. His left arm had been ripped off by force near the elbow. Haru’s back was unnaturally curved, as if someone or something had broken it near one of the top vertebrae and left her leaning forward in upside-down ‘L’ shape, and her legs were twisted into grotesque bends and angles. Futaba was lying on the floor but was harder to see, as the only thing visible was the bust of her metaverse outfit, soaked in blood where there once used to be green trimming, and her face. Her orange hair was twisted violently around her own broken neck and round glasses sat shattered upon her sickly white skin. She was missing one of her beautiful, mauve eyes, and a horrendous crimson wound sat in its place. Her one dead eye was staring at Akira from its upturned position on her face, which had been tilted all the way back to face him. Morgana was nowhere to be found, but black clumps of fur were scattered over the floor in a startling amount. 

Last but not least, Makoto was sitting front in front of Akira’s feet, her form hunched over her knees, a darker red splotched over her grey outfit. Her hair was dripping with the substance, and it trailed down her face and onto the floor. Her right hand was missing entirely, in its place a bloody stump of broken bone and sinew. The gaping hole in her chest gave view to the other bodies behind her, and her heart had been tossed to the floor beside her. It was still _beating_ when Akira’s eyes landed upon it. 

A sharp wail escaped his lips at the sight of his friend’s mangled remains. What had happened? What had done this to his precious friends? Akira propelled himself forward, starting for Makoto as the screams from his throat echoed out into the room. He held onto her shoulders and pulled her close, sobbing hysterically into her neck as they wracked his body violently. His tears mixed with the blood on her body, and his own outfit was becoming stained with the blood of his friends. Out of nowhere, a hand propped itself on his back. Surprised, he looked up suddenly to meet Makoto’s face, which had lifted itself up. Her eyes were missing from her face, but her head was tilted like they were still there, staring into his own. How was she still alive? A crazed laugh filled the open air, and when Akira realized it came from Makoto’s lips, he tried to escape the iron grip she had on him. _What’s going on?_

“This is what happens when our leader fails. Oh how the mighty have fallen.” The sickening way she spat out the words filled Akira with dread. It didn’t sound like Makoto at all. Her voice was always so cherry and soft, but this was cold and heartless, mocking in many ways. He wondered if such a voice could ever leave her lips like _that._

“This is all _your_ fault! If only you had been a better leader. If only you weren’t such a disgrace!” Her hand wrapped itself around the back of Akira’s head, pulling on his hair and pushing him forward to meet her lips. His mind went blank for a second. _What is she doing?_ He squirmed and tried his best to pull away, but Makoto’s grip was firm and he could taste the sour blood that had been on her lips on his tongue. He gagged at the taste and place his hands on the side of her head, forcing her head back as she let out another sickening laugh. Suddenly more hysterical laughter filled the air, each in a different flavor of one of his friend’s voices. Akira frantically looked around, his chest stopping mid-gasp as he stared like a doe-in-headlights and what he saw before him. 

Ann was sauntering over, her broken arm dangling at her side. Her dead eyes met Akira’s and she huffed. Crouching down she grabbed a hold of his tailcoat, fisting it up in her good hand as the bloody smile she plastered on her face contorted into various degrees of insane. He flinched and tried to swat her hand away, but Makoto pulled him back for another sickening kiss. Behind her head was Ryuji’s bloody form walking towards them, and he could see Haru and Futaba crawling forward on their hands. Yusuke was still attached to Haru through the katana that impaled them together, and his one arm and moving along with the others, helping to drag them forward. The raven-haired teen could see the lower half of Futaba’s body was missing entirely, only her chest, arms, and head remained. His stomach retched at the sight, and he swallowed hard through the kiss that was still forcing its way onto his lips. 

They were all surrounding him by the time Akira broke Makoto’s second kiss, a wave of fear and panic spreading through him. How were they even still moving? Everyone was so mangled and broken; Akira could have sworn they had died. They _were_ dead. This was impossible, even for the metaverse. Unless the Shadows had gotten really, fantastically great at mimicking the dead, then this wasn’t possible. Pure adrenaline ran through his veins and he was scrambling to escape, kicking and punching and screaming as the other broken bodies latched onto his own, banter from the deceased bodies filling the air. 

“God, you’re pathetic. Where’s Joker when you need him?” Ann’s voice stabbed at his heart, and her clutch on his coat moved to his chest. 

“What…What are you talking about? I’m Joker.” Akira muttered, too afraid of the scene before him to risk shouting and causing something worse to happen. A dumbfounded look appeared on the girl’s faces, before chuckling and returning their gaze to him. 

“No you’re not. You’re Akira. Joker is so much more different and _useful_ than you.” Makoto laughed gaudily. The way she spat the words out of her mouth so matter-of-factly left a bitter dread in Akira’s gut. He almost wished he hadn’t spoken at all. 

“Yeah, that guy is way more useful than _you_.” Ryuji’s hand was yanking on Akira’s hair, pulling his head backwards in a painful tilt, so he was forced to look into the other teen’s eyes. 

“ _Akira_ isn’t worth our time. Why do you even bother with him at all?” Haru and Yusuke cooed at once, the both of them clutching Akira’s shoulders. White flashes of pain shot through them, and he felt razor sharp nails digging into his skin through the fabric of his coat. He winced and yelped, before his attention was returned to another shrill voice floating through the air. 

“He’s the reason why we’re dead!” Futaba shouted with an angry scowl on her face as she grasped at Akira’s right leg, holding it down to the floor at his side. 

“You should have just stuck with the Joker personality. Ten times more effective than the quiet, bumbling fool that Akira is!” Ann rasped out again, more insane laughter filling the air. 

“I always thought you were annoying, but then I saw how cool Joker was. That’s the only reason I stuck around.” Ryuji was yanking at more fistfuls of hair, bruising the skin beneath his fingers. 

“We only need Joker. We don’t need any one else.” Makoto’s voice silenced the others, and a crazed chuckle flitted through the air again. 

“Joker is one hundred percent focused on the mission at hand. He doesn’t have any emotions outside of calm, and he doesn’t deal with trivial things outside of the metaverse. He listens to us, is there for us, but he doesn’t need us to do anything for him in return. He doesn’t even need friendship! He’s perfect for what we need.” With every additional banter, Makoto’s body inched closer, until she was practically sitting in Akira’s lap, face leaned in with a suffocating closeness as she grasped at his neck, pulling herself up to face him directly and stare at him where her eyes used to be. The grin on her face could not get any wider. 

“Joker is **_our_** toy to mess with. He’s **_our_** doll to shape and reform to **_our_** liking.” The entire group chimed together, a cold chill ran down Akira’s spine at the words. 

“Why don’t you just die so we can have what we want? We’re just using you, you know.” A girly chuckle escaped Makoto’s mouth, and her hand went straight for Akira’s throat. He was panicked beyond belief at what he was witnessing; his dead friends berating him for not being a certain personality. _Do they really think of me like that?_ His free hand went up to Makoto’s arm, trying to rip it free of his throat, which she was now pressing her fingers into. He could feel the pressure rising as the versatile mocking laughter rung into his ears and through his brain. 

“Why don’t you just die and give us Joker. After all, it’s not his fault if we die. It’s _yours_ , for being an incompetent fool.” The menacing stares they were all giving him were blinding. The voices of laughter turned to screams as they all tried to place a hand onto Akira. He tried his best to push them off, but the weight of six people was no match for his futile attempts. A new sharp pain coursed through his shoulder, and he turned his head to see Makoto had bitten down hard on the exposed flesh, sinking her teeth through bone and muscle. An exasperated scream leapt out of the raven-haired boy’s throat. What was she doing? Why were they attacking him? Did they want him dead that badly? _Why…_ Akira thought to himself. 

“Stop!” He screamed into the air, and the vice grip’s the group had on his body tightened. They were clutching at bruising skin and he felt more teeth sink into his sensitive flesh. Blood poured from the wounds in waves and with every new sensation of ache and pain he threw his head back in bitter wails of torment. A sickening sound filled the air, and he could feel teeth grinding on bone in his shoulder. Panting for air was all he could do in order to feel less pain. A small crack sounded out through the room, then a loud _crunch_. Akira peered through wet eyes over at his left shoulder as Makoto ripped her head back, taking muscle and broken chunks of bone with her. He could see his own white collar bone beneath the mound of bloody flesh. His mind went blank when he realized he could not feel his shoulder anymore. 

Akira was _shrieking_. His voice drawn out into a piercing sound and had Makoto been any closer to his head she probably would have gone deaf from it. _It hurts_ he whimpered inside his head, all other thoughts of escape and worry shot dead inside of his head. 

_It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, **it hurts-**_

**_“Make it stop!”_** his voice bellowed out into the room, agony filling his mind as he repeated the words over and over again, to himself. The demons surrounding him were not listening- they were still snacking on his form. Blood and tissue were spreading out around him and he could still feel the sensations of hands grabbing at him, keeping his writhing form held in place. An arm wrapped itself around his neck as he continued to scream and shriek in pain and misery, tears mixing with splatters on blood that landed on his face. A shrill sound was emitted next to his right ear, and Akira paused only briefly from the pressure on his throat as the voice spoke. 

“Why should we? You’re our plaything to _consume_ after all…” the voice trailed off and Akira felt a sharp, quick snap inside of his neck. The world fell to darkness a second later. 

___________________________________________________________

When Akira came to, he was no longer in the bloody, gore-filled room. The mutilated talking corpses were nowhere to be found, and he was in no pain. A quick hand reaching to his shoulder found the flesh intact from where it once had been ripped out with jutting, razor sharp teeth. He let out a sigh he hadn’t known he was holding. _Was it just a dream then?_ The teen wanted to believe it a nightmare and he would be walking down the staircase of Leblanc to see Sojiro sipping at his morning coffee, sunlight gleaming in through the glass of the front door. He wanted to run toward to that man and cry, even if he knew it was childish and something he would never have done before. Akira was always very reserved and calm when it came to his own emotions, but what he had just witnessed had felt so **real**. That nightmare was unlike anything he had ever had before; it rivaled only his visits to the Velvet Room. 

Akira sat up from his position and found that he had not been laying on his bed in the attic of Leblanc, but instead the cold concrete cot in his cell in the Velvet Room. He blinked, and pawed at the cold sweat that beaded his forehead from his supposed nightmare. The clanking of chains and the rustle of the thin prisoner uniform found home in the silence. He looked over his shoulder toward the chained door of his cell, looking out only to see the disappointed faces of Igor and the twins. Justine gripped her clipboard to her chest and sighed, a weary glint in her eye. Caroline was noticeably more upset, a tinge of anger in her nauseatingly electric yellow eye. She tapped her baton into her left hand repeatedly, impatiently glaring daggers into Akira. He winced back from the sudden tension and anger that swelled within the room. His gaze bounced between the twins and he stood upright from his position on the cot, taking a cautious step forward to the rusted metal bars as he finally settled his questioning glance onto Igor. Even the mysterious man in front of him had an air of unsettling disappointment. Akira did not know from what, though. Usually his sudden late night visits to the Velvet Room were met with praise. This time though, he felt as if he had kicked a dying kitten in front of them all. He wondered how exactly thick the bars to the jail cell were, before Caroline smashed her baton in rage against the bars. A jolt of adrenaline shot through Akira as he backed away, chains swaying back and forth from his wrists. 

“What a disgrace! We gave you so many chances, and you _wasted_ them all, Inmate!” Caroline’s voice dripped like acid onto Akira’s heart. He had never heard her so menacing, so _angry_ before. She was practically spitting salt into his non-existent wounds. He flinched back in response to her glare as she regained her composure, setting the end of the baton firmly in her left hand. 

“How disappointing for your rehabilitation to have been in vain.” Justine tapped the edge of the clipboard, leaning back a little in her perfectly straight stance. 

“What do you mean by that?” Akira asked calmly, but still clearly shaken from both his nightmare and the sudden onslaught of verbal abuse coming from the twin wardens. 

“You have brought upon us a great ordeal. Never has a guest of my Velvet Room shown such stunted growth and lack of results. Such a waste of potential…” Igor huffed, his hand waving around in boredom for a mere second before he interlocked them both in a tight embrace, elbows propped on the desk he always sat at. 

“Great ordeal..? Wasted potential…” Akira repeated, dumbfounded. What were they talking about? They had never been disappointed by his results before. What had he done that had angered them all so badly? He was sure he had not done anything; after all, it was only recently that the Phantom Thieves had stolen Shido’s heart. His heart beat loudly in his chest and he gently tugged at the hem of his shirt, staring at the floor in disbelief. 

“For the price of your failed rehabilitation, you will be sentenced to death.” Igor’s dual-toned voice rang out into the silence. Akira’s head shot back up and he felt himself grabbing the bars of his cell in a tight embrace. _Death?_ What did he do to deserve to _die_? 

“Wait! What’s going on..!? What do you mean I’m sentenced to death?” the panic was hard to hide from his voice, and Akira failed to subdue the falter it gave as he struggled with his words. 

“Silence, Inmate!” Caroline smashed her baton at the bars, right where his right hand had been. It connected with a loud _crack_ and a howl escaped from Akira’s throat. He leapt back in pain, clutching his bleeding and broken fingers to himself in an attempt to soften the stinging sensation coursing through them. Glancing down at his hand, he saw the three right-most fingers were covered in blood, and his ring finger was snapped at the joint, curving unnaturally outward. His pinky finger was an ugly fusion of magenta and violet, the nail was crooked and hanging to the side. A large gash was gushing blood from his middle finger, and he could see the white of the bone seeping through. Akira was gasping in pain, tears threatening to escape his eyes. 

He was sucking in a shallow, harsh breath before he had realized he was out of the cell and on the floor, in front of the rusty cyan guillotine. The twins hadn’t even opened the door of the cell. Justine was lifting the metal blade upwards; not even breaking a sweat as her small frame raised the blade without any effort at all. Caroline had planted the heel of her right foot into Akira’s back, pressing hard against his spine. He grunted in pain, before attempting to speak once more. 

“You’ve got it wrong-I didn’t do anything!” He wheezed, the breath being sucked out of his lungs by force when a swift, inhumanly hard kick was cast into his chest. He went rolling on the floor, smashing into the opposite brick wall with a loud thud. Caroline had silenced him all right, a smirk of approval on her face as Justine winced, but continued to draw the rope of the instrument towards her. Akira was trying hard to keep steady breaths because he knew Caroline had broken more than just ribs. His lungs were on fire and every attempt to breathe was met with more excruciating pain in his chest. His broken hand was cradled to his chest, the blood still oozing out from the wounds. Tears had begun to fall down his face. _What did I do wrong?_

“Accept your fate. You should be able to do at least this much, Failure.” Caroline cooed, that electric smirk plastered to her face, arms crossed over her childish frame. Justine had since finished raising the blade to the contraption, and Akira was quickly dragged forward by the chains connecting to his hands and feet. He let out a startled yell as he was being dragged across the stone floor. It felt like sandpaper was being scraped across his exposed skin, because while Caroline was yanking at the chains on one end, Akira’s thin prisoner shirt rolled up on itself for a brief moment. By the time he was pulled in front of the guillotine thick red scrapes were welting on his skin. She placed his head into the contraption during his delirium and her foot was firmly keeping him in place as it rested on his lower back. He tilted his head up and through blurry, squinting eyes he saw Igor’s face. The wide grin he had upon it was unsettling and the last thing he’d ever see. 

_This is a mistake._

_I can’t die yet…_

_I don’t want to die…_

Akira let out a sharp cry when Justine dropped the rope, before everything faded from his vision once more. 

___________________________________________________________

The loud sound of a subway train gliding over tracks woke Akira from his slumber. He was quick to jolt awake, his glasses askew on his face, school uniform wrinkled. He panted, gasping for air as his hands reached up to his neck, feeling for wounds underneath the soft warmth of the sweater. He felt nothing. Was it another dream? He wasn’t entirely sure he had woken from it yet. He pinched the skin of his hand tightly, making sure he was not in some dream loop stuck on repeat. He felt the pain, and flinched away from it. Akira no longer had any wounds on his form that he was aware of, but both of those _dreams_ seemed entirely too real for him. He remembered the way his friend’s corpses had dug into his skin with their own bloody wounds filling the air with the scent of death. Caroline and Justine’s cold expressions, merciless as they beheaded him. It was all too real to be a dream. But if it was real, then why was he alive? And on the subway of all places…

Akira adjusted his glasses to better fit the bridge of his nose. Again he did not remember why he was riding the train. That seemed to be a common theme for him now days. He stood up from his empty, cold seat and grasped onto one of the hand rests above him. Looking around he saw the familiar train he always took to get back to Yongen-Jaya. Pocketing his phone he found the time to be quite late, even for him. His school bag was nowhere to be found, and he did not see Morgana with him. Part of him was worried-he was still reeling from the two dreams of death and Morgana may have been a pain in the ass sometimes but he was always a comfort when it counted- but part of him was also relieved. Morgana had a nasty habit of getting too nosy in other people’s business. If that cat could see how badly Akira’s hands were shaking, pupils dilated as if he were high on some cocktail of substances, then there was no doubt in the teen’s mind that Morgana would ask questions he didn’t have answers for. He paced a bit, thinking quietly to himself in order to calm down. He just wanted to go home and take in the scent of the café, quietly comforted by the familiar sounds of creaking wood and banter of the caretaker he had grown so fondly of over this past year. 

Akira forced himself to calm down. At the very least he shouldn’t be looking like a paranoid schizophrenic when he walked into the café. The train rushed on blearily, and Akira had set one fist clenched in his pocket and the other gripping a little too tightly onto the orange handle above his head. He forced himself to breathe. _In. Out. Calm down. Inhale. Exhale. Just like that…_ He coached himself, remembering some of the things he had helped Futaba out with when they decided to learn some tricks to calm down from anxiety attacks. It wasn’t perfect, but it helped. He soon felt his breathing even out and heartbeat following suit. A few minutes later the voice echoed over the train signaling their arrival to Yongen. 

As soon as Akira stepped off the platform, he noticed the pouring rain outside of the station windows. He cursed under his breath that he didn’t have an umbrella, or his wallet to buy one. There still was no recollection of where his school bag went or when he had lost it. Did he lose it? It could have been stolen from him when he slept on the train, but he still didn’t even know why he was asleep on the train. Mind still foggy from the nightmares he had and the tired ache of his bones adding to the pile of anxiety-related stress, he decided to brave the pouring rain and wait till morning for answers. It was only a few minutes until he would arrive at Leblanc anyways. A little rain never hurt anybody. 

Akira ducked out from the station platform and out of the foggy doors into the cold stormy weather. Lightning lit up the sky like firecrackers going off in the dead of night. There were no stars, and the clouds were so thick with darkness it almost felt like there hadn’t ever been any stars to begin with. The rain shot down through the sky like bullets and every drop felt like it was trying to tear through his skin. The air was cold, much colder than he thought it would be. It was December after all. Akira was more surprised that it was raining rather than sleeting or snowing. His feet smacked down hard on the pavement as he kept up his pace, running through the empty backstreets of Yongen, eager to arrive at his destination. His glasses were fogging up and he had to remove them in order to see clearly through the downpour. Soon he was in front of the door to Leblanc, panting and hunched over with his hands on his knees. He knew he was soaked and Sojiro would scold him for not having his umbrella, but he really needed to see a familiar face that wasn’t actively trying to kill him. 

The raven-haired boy walked forward, leaning into the light glinting off of the door to the café. Rain drops slid down the glass and made patterns among the foggy corners. Akira slicked his wet bangs back out of his face, before attempting to pull at the door to the café. The door opened; but it was not Akira who opened it. Sojiro stood in the doorway, an unamused look on his face. He kept away from the shutter, avoiding the rain pelting off of the fabric and onto the ground. Akira could barely keep himself under it in contrast, trying to dry himself off by wringing out his sleeve. 

“You’re late.” Sojiro started, a scowl replacing the smile he usually wore. Akira brushed it off as a bad mood due to the rain, and he looked up into his guardians eyes. 

“I’m sorry. I fell asleep on the train…” He trailed off, and as he closed the gap between himself and Sojiro, the older man stopped him by placing a hand on his shoulder. Akira’s eyes widened, _What…?_

“I don’t care why you’re late. As far as I’m concerned, it’s just more excuses.” Sojiro glared at the boy in front of him, his gaze intense and annoyed at having to deal with the teen. 

“Excuses? Sojiro, what’s gotten into-“ Akira was cut off as the hand on his shoulder gripped him harder, earning a wince in reply. 

“I told you what would happen if you were late again.” 

“Again?” 

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be. Just leave.” Sojiro pushed back on his hand, hard enough to make Akira stumble out into the rain once more. The shocked expression filling his face was one of panic, confusion, and fear. This wasn’t the kind, gentle Sojiro he knew. Something was off, _again. What’s he talking about?_

“Sojiro, I don’t understand.” The plea in Akira’s voice went unnoticed. The older man was staring at him like he was trash on the side of the street. The look on Sojiro’s face was full of annoyance as he rolled his eyes, turning back towards the store. 

“Jeez kid, take a hint! I don’t care about you. I don’t want you here. Now get lost.” Pure malice etched into every word. Akira felt as if he was just stabbed in the heart by the man in front of him. “The sooner the better.” He added, making a point of hissing the words out under his breath loud enough so Akira would hear them through the pounding rain.

He didn’t care about Akira? _Bullshit._ After all Akira went through that year alone that Sojiro knew about, he took the news of his ward being a Phantom Thief in stride compared to how his own parents would have. Sojiro cared for him and treated him like his own son. So why would he say such a thing like that? 

“Why would you say something like that after all we’ve been through?” The anger in Akira’s voice was controlled enough that he doubted Sojiro would snap at him for it. The older man turned on his heels to glare at the teen, a fire lit in his eyes that had not been there before. 

“Because kid; it’s true. Ever heard of something called acting? I only _pretended_ to care.” 

“Why would you do that? There’s no reason for you to do that! To go that far!...” his voice cracked at the end and his hands were clenched into fists near his chest. He couldn’t believe the man in front of him would **_lie_** about such a thing. 

“Simple: I needed to gain your trust. If I had an unruly kid running around assaulting people I would’ve had my hands full when they finally carted your ass off to juvie. Your school only cared about taking in some delinquent to reform him, and they made sure I played along from the get-go.” Sojiro leaned into Akira, his face only inches apart from the raven-haired teen.”They _paid_ me to be your friend. And now that you’ve gone and caused a mess of trouble you’re no longer worth protecting or pretending to care for.” 

Akira felt a rage bubble up in his chest. He wanted to scream and cry at the man before him. He had to be just saying things, none of that could be true! If he had truly not cared for Akira, then why did he teach him about the café? Why did he allow Futaba around the teenager? What was there to gain by doing such things? The tension in the air was suffocating, and Akira couldn’t take it anymore as he shouted through the rain. 

“That’s bullshit! Sojiro, why are you-“the sudden white hot pain on the side of his face blinded him for a second, causing him to stumble back and fall. Sojiro’s face had grown dark, and the glint on his glasses from the café light blocked any view of his eyes. Rage was settling back inside of the older man. Akira’s hand reached to clutch at the welt on his skin as he realized what happened. Sojiro had slapped him across the face. 

Hot, stinging tears wrestled Akira from his frantic emotions. He had never once felt threatened by this man before, not like this at least. The fact Sojiro would physically lash out at him at all was disturbing. Sojiro took one step forward, and Akira flinched back further into the rain. The gravel road below him felt grainy and rough as he sat upon it. He covered his face defensively with his arms, and quickly wondered if he was going to be hit again. Sojiro opted to look down upon the boy shivering and shrinking back into himself in the rain. He glared at Akira once more before speaking. 

“I won’t repeat myself again. Leave.” Sojiro turned on his heels and entered the restaurant. The door to the café slammed shut and a _click_ of the lock notified Akira of the situation he was in. Did Sojiro truly not care? Akira was stung, both in pain in his heart and the bright red mark on his face. The tears fell freely without his knowledge of their presence. The only sound in the air was the increasingly loud pounding of the rain against asphalt and lightning running through the night sky. Akira processed the information for a few minutes before he dragged himself up from the floor. The rain assaulted his skin as he walked slowly back down the alley, the cold air sinking into his bones. His hair was sticking to the back of his neck, his clothes felt twice as heavy as they did before. 

Akira’s feet led him to one of the further back alleys, one he had not explored before. The dark of the night hid him from view as he crashed to the ground, no longer finding the will to move forward. He positioned himself so his back was resting against the wall behind him. He leaned his head back against the brick wall. The nightmares from before came back to haunt him. Why? Why was everyone betraying him? Nobody truly cared about him, did they? Akira snatched his phone from his pocket, trying to call everyone he possibly knew a phone number for. Ryuji was his first choice, but the phone just continued to ring until it hit his uncreated voicemail. _Maybe he’s busy right now…_ the soaked teen thought to himself. He tried the next number, and the next. By the time he had finished calling every other phone number and getting the same, dead line result, he was ready to throw his phone against the wall and smash it to pieces. The patience he had with his friend’s was whittled away with every water drop that pelted his skin. He had been out in the rain for at least an hour now. He was shivering and hypothermia would soon set in if he didn’t find _somewhere_ to go. Somebody had to of cared…

_They have to…right?_

Akira had **_never_** felt so utterly alone before.

His faint whimpers and sobs were lost to the rain. He moved to position himself so his knees were to his chest, clutching at his legs to keep their place in front of his face. The teen was shivering violently, crying in the rain, and ** _alone_**. He hated it. He wanted to scream at the world and demand why it was so cruel. Shifting, he felt a sharp pain in the side of his hip when he did so, and noticed something sharp was poking his skin from inside his pocket. Fishing around led him to find his glasses he had taken off earlier, the lenses broken and one arm of plastic hanging loosely off to the side. Akira threw the glasses as far as he could away from him, losing them in the distance and rain. They served no purpose anymore. There was no hiding himself from the world. Even when he tried, it was still met with disaster. He sat there, a l o n e, and cursed the world around him. Slowly, his fingers and toes started becoming numb. For a second he thought to move to someplace that was out of the freezing assault of the rain, but decided not to bother. He didn’t really care what happened to him one way or another. He just wanted to sleep. Akira was so tired, not just from Sojiro’s betrayal, but the nightmares as well. Everything that could possibly go wrong had done so. Akira Kurusu’s world was falling apart, unraveling at its seams. There was no home to go back to. There would be no friends to greet him with smiling faces. There was no just cause that required his assistance. Not anymore. 

As the beating storm continued on into the night, Akira curled up into a tight little ball and began to feel himself fall asleep along with his senses numbing. Soon he could no longer feel the rain’s contact on his skin. He was frozen to the core, mimicking his feelings of emptiness. His fingers and toes lost their edge and his grip on himself faded. The shivering all but stopped as his mind went blank, allowing the sound of the rain to drift with him to sleep. 

________________________________________________________

The next time Akira awoke was to the cold ice water being poured over his head. As he jolted upwards, wrists cutting into the metal around the sore and bruised skin, blinking cold water out of his eyes, he muttered under his breath. 

“I’m getting tired of this…”

“Oh, awake now are we?” Makoto’s sickly sweet voice floated through the air. It was the same as the first ‘dream’ and it cut into his ears. Akira wondered if she gurgled nails in order to sound as demented as she did. 

“Took you long enough.” A gruff male voice followed after. It took Akira a second to realize it was Sojiro. Akira’s vision was blurry and unreliable, and that paired with his splitting headache wasn’t helping his situation. 

“Well points for effort at least.”Akira heard a loud crash as a metal bucket hit the floor, dropped carelessly by the first speaker. The sharp sound caused Akira’s head to tilt, trying to avoid the wince he was holding back. He could almost hear the smirk on the girl’s face. 

“Where am I now?” He asked, only to receive a chuckle of laughter from them in reply. He was already frowning, but it intensified greatly. Akira shook his head to clear some more water droplets from his bangs and opened his eyes, staring at Makoto and glancing at Sojiro who was standing off to the side. The looks on their faces would’ve been more surprising but in all honesty, he figured the twisted people in front of him were used to making these faces. For him, at least. This was probably another vision of pain and suffering. He wanted it to stop. 

“You should remember this place. You’re especially afraid of this memory…” Makoto cooed, walking forward and taking the raven-haired teen’s face into her hands, squeezing the sides of his cheekbones hard. He winced as the bruises lining them were pressed upon. Her playful, sinister smirk did nothing to improve his mood. Akira looked around and forced himself not to panic because once he realized where he was, he wanted to bolt out of the steel door and high-tail it out of there. 

Akira was in the interrogation room. _Again._

His blood pressure rose to dangerous levels once the adrenaline spiked and his heartbeat grew twice as fast. He didn’t want to be here of all places. But the so-called dreams were not merciful in any way. Sojiro scoffed as Akira’s fearful gaze darted around the room, the lights shining a bit too brightly here and there. The syringe was in the same place where the police officer dropped it the first time. Water was pooling beneath the chair from the bucket, and his school uniform was stained with a mix of water and blood. _No, it can’t be! Why here, why this memory…_

_I don’t want to be here._

_I want to leave._

_Let me out._

_Kill me quickly…_

_I’d rather die than be here._

Akira’s mind was racing. He started to struggle against the metal handcuffs on his wrists once more but failed to do anything but increase the pain around them. Blood was dripping down his hands and into the water on the floor. Makoto was smiling wickedly as if she had just thought of a wonderful idea. Akira knew it wouldn’t be good. 

“What did they start with? Kicking and punching? That’s too boring for my tastes. Hey, wasn’t there a crowbar over there, Boss?” She turned her head only enough to gesture behind her shoulder to the table. Sojiro said nothing but grabbed the item from the table anyway. Akira hadn’t seen it there before. When did it appear? 

“I think I’ll start with this…And then, maybe we’ll try some other form of torture. The police officers did many things but-“Makoto grabbed the crowbar from Sojiro’s hands and _licked_ it, keeping eye contact with her victim the whole time,-“I wanna try some new things. But some of the stuff they did was good too…The nail torture would have been fun to watch!” 

Her wicked smile turned into a smirk as she brought the crowbar down into his left side hard. Akira started to cough viciously, swallowing air and trying hard to hold tears back. She continued to bring the crowbar down, again, and again, and again until he felt all of his ribs starting to crack and break one by one. The white static pain coursed through his body. Small yelps and grunts erupted into the room as more pain was delivered; soon the teen was coughing up blood. Probably from punctured lungs, he guessed. He could hear hysterical laughter ring into the room, coming from the girl swinging wildly in front of him. One final blow of the crowbar to the side of his face ended that specific tools use. Makoto was panting heavily from over exertion-still grinning wide-and she wiped the blood from the metal onto her hands and shirt. Her white blouse was being stained an ugly fuchsia. 

“How many bones did I just break? Three? Five? I wanna know,” The giggling girl reached out and took his face into her steel grip again, forcing the bleeding, panting boy to face her. 

“How many bones did _they_ break again? Just a few ribs, right? I’m going to be doing more than that.” 

“I see you’re the one from earlier.” Akira coughed, spitting blood that was pooling in his mouth to the floor. He glared at the brunette in front of himself. When did she start to seem so… _crazy_? 

“Well who else would I be? I am Makoto after all.” Her head tilted to the side, eyeing her prey curiously. 

“Not the one that I know.” 

“Are you serious? You can’t even tell when someone is lying to you? It’s so damn obvious that we all hate you.” Makoto tossed the crowbar to the ground with a metal clang. It ricocheted off of the walls and back into his ears. Akira’s headache grew worse. 

“Is that why I’m here then? Because you all _hate_ me so much?” his words were laced with venom, and he could feel the heat rising between them. “Is the only reason I’m here, right now, in the godforsaken room with you two just so you can rub it in?” 

“That’s exactly what this is. After all, we only need use of Joker. And you’re not really him, are you?” Makoto had leaned in, her eyes sparkling with malice and her lips perked up in a way that mimicked a doll’s own empty smile. 

Akira spat blood onto her face, a defiant and adrenaline filled grin taking the spot where his frown used to be. He felt so betrayed by this woman, whom he thought he knew so much about. She had let him into her life and told him things she could not bring herself to tell others. Was her plan to betray him all along? Akira was sick to his stomach, and not because of the severity of the injuries he’d sustained. It felt oddly good as he watched her smile falter for a moment, the crimson droplets running down her face. The high of the action only lasted for a seconds though, and he had to collect himself as he remembered the other reason why he had spit the blood on her. He wanted to provoke her on purpose, to get the pain over with. If she killed him now, would he wake up in another dream world again? Or would he be dead for real? It didn’t matter if it were real, he deemed. There wasn’t anyone left who cared. 

Thinking back, he also wanted to know exactly how she knew about the broken ribs. Akira had not explained in detail the extent of his injuries to anybody, not even Sojiro. How did she learn about it? Did anyone else know? A small part of him was ecstatic as he rebelled against her but he was mostly afraid. Now that his innermost fears had been realized, he was more afraid of having to go through this again. His friends betraying him, Sojiro and the other adults turning their backs on him. Akira felt like he was back in his hometown, staring down at his hands as Shido threatened to sue him. 

Akira was alone again. Afraid, betrayed, left behind as the world continued to turn…

Makoto grinned wide and licked the small droplets that fell upon her lips, grabbing the back of the steel chair with her free hand and dragging it behind herself as she strode to the table. She showed no signs of struggle in her efforts, even after putting so much into the beating. If she still had this much stamina, Akira hoped she would screw up and kill him by accident. At least that way he wouldn’t have to put up with the pain anymore. 

“You’ve gotten cocky now, haven’t you? Fine. I’ll up the ante.” Sojiro stepped forward and pulled out a small, black cloth. It was rolled up into a cylindrical ball, and was about an inch in width. He set the cloth on the table as Makoto grinned wide, a small cackle escaping her lips. She unrolled the cloth in front of Akira and he stared at the thin, long strips of metal as she took one into her hand and smoothed one blood-dried finger along the edge, creating a thin ringing sound that zipped through the air like a scream. It was a needle, albeit a very _long_ one. The teen remembered these objects. He cursed to himself and writhed under the pressure of his wounds and the handcuffs, a defiant glare in his eyes as he stared down the girl in front of him once more. A cocky grin overtaking her lips, she waved the metal needle in front of his face, gesturing with it as she spoke. 

“Ah. So you remember this now? Good, that means you’ll be used to the pain.” 

Akira knew what she was about to do. He remembered the pain in his fingers remained for weeks afterwards. He just wanted to know how _she_ found out about his injuries, and the true extent of his torture in the interrogation room. The teen gritted his teeth and forced himself to breathe, albeit painfully. This wasn’t going to end well and he knew it. _So much for provoking a swift death…_

Sojiro fumbled with Akira’s handcuffs for a second before securing his right hand onto the table, his left still trapped behind the chair. His bloody and bruised wrist was smeared onto the table as Sojiro fought to keep the boys hand in place. Makoto gazed intensely at the needle before gently grabbing his index finger, lining the needle up right between the nail and the skin. Akira let out a sharp cry, remembering how painful it had been the first time. 

“Stop it!” Akira fumbled over his words, still trying to yank his hand away from the two people he thought he could trust. When had they turned their backs on him? Were they always like this, only using him for their own personal gain? And what exactly was there to gain from torturing him? Makoto had been right; this was _exactly_ like rubbing salt into his wounds. It was entirely possible they were doing this because they saw him as ‘Akira’, not ‘Joker’. 

Akira saw the needle start moving forward into his skin and closed his eyes tight with a hiss. It was extremely painful, feeling his own nail being lifted off of the nail bed and forced upwards, ripping it away from the flesh but only where the needle had pierced his skin. Blood surged out and Makoto gave a satisfied sigh. Akira was so caught up in the pain that he didn’t realize he was biting down hard on his bottom lip. A drop of the metallic liquid fell down his chin and he grunted, staring Makoto down with a glare. 

“Don’t give me that look. We’ve still got four more fingers left!” her hand reached for another needle and Sojiro repositioned his hand for a better angle of his middle finger. Akira was still squirming under the pain and pressure. He never thought Sojiro was this strong, being able to hold down the teen with mild ease. Makoto was all too happy to insert yet another needle into the finger she held, this time not stopping until the metal was all the way underneath the nail. The whimper Akira made as Makoto slowly stuck the needle in caused her grin to grow wider, if it even could. 

“Good boy. Save the screaming for when we get to the more gruesome stuff!” The giggles that left her mouth felt like sour honey in Akira’s ears. It was sickening to hear her voice being used for such crazed purposes. His fingers were in agony with every needle she put in. The raven-haired boy managed to pull his hand away only once; when they were about to shove the final needle into his pinkie finger. Makoto thought the attempt was amusing, enough so that when the final needle went in and Akira’s tears slipped down his face and stung at his pre-existing wounds, she promptly slammed her fist down on the final needle, yanking the nail and tearing it off of his finger entirely. 

A wail of pain echoed into the room. Akira glared back at the girl as she laughed haughtily to herself. Sojiro was still a boring, expressionless bystander. He had almost not said anything the whole time and was not even amused by the torture going on. He seemed to not even want to be there. Akira honestly thought the older man was just there to rub the salt into his wounds. He had been betrayed by everyone after all. Why not have the person who was the closest thing he had to a family watch and let the torture happen? The guardian had done nothing to stop it so far, and was helping in the sick endeavor to restrain the younger male so more horror and trauma could be inflicted upon him. 

Makoto was still smiling, poking at the detached nail that rested in a pool of blood on the table. Her satisfied huffs drifted out into the room, and she waited only a moment before yanking each needle out of his fingers, one by one. Akira almost couldn’t feel the pain anymore. In fact, he was sure he could no longer feel the tips of his fingers. Probably, he jested, due to the injuries themselves. Eventually all of the metal needles were dislodged and tossed back onto the black cloth, haphazardly resting on top of one another as drips of crimson liquid fell from his fingers, to the table, and to the floor from there. He couldn’t stop his hand from shaking, even as his arm was being held by his former caretaker and swiftly placed behind the back of the chair, restrained once more. 

“Well that was exciting. I do love it when your face twists into all those ugly emotions. It satisfies my appetite for blood.” 

Akira said nothing and tried to focus his thoughts by closing his eyes, tilting his head towards the floor. Makoto did not take kindly to being ignored, jamming the edge of her elbow into his side where she knew the most damage had been done, grabbing Akira by the throat and forcing him to face her, watching as he breathed in heavily. 

“Aren’t you even curious as to _why_ I know about these things? The broken bones, the _torture_? Come on Akira, you know better than this.” 

He was curious but he was in no mood to deal with the wretched banter of the brunette. She surveyed his expression before continuing on. 

“Well you should know that _you_ told us. After all, Joker is your other half…” She trailed off and enjoyed the face he made when his eyes went wide. Akira hadn’t done that, had he? His mind was so cluttered with emotion and physical pain that he could not think straight anymore. No. What she was saying was that _Joker_ told her, not Akira. He scrunched his nose up at her, trying to stare into her dark mahogany eyes before she turned away, facing the door to the room. 

“It must be hard knowing that you hate yourself and what you’ve become…”

“What are you talking about?” The tone of her voice had grown eerily soft and he did not approve of the sudden change in her demeanor. 

“I’ll leave you to the other _you_ ; he has something he wants to say. Come on Boss.” Makoto opened the metal door to the room and stood in Akira view beyond it, turning her head over her shoulder to stare blankly at him before leaving, Sojiro in tow behind her. The door slammed shut and he was left alone in the cold, metal, quiet room. The biting of the steel handcuffs around his wrists grew weaker and he could almost no longer feel the pain blooming from his wounds. But that didn’t mean the pain inside of him faltered. His chest felt heavy with the implications of her words. Akira hated himself? Why would he have reason to do that? He felt betrayed but he was not so sure it was to the point of hating himself. The quiet drip of water onto the floor rung throughout the room and a hand suddenly came from behind the boy, covering his eyes gently. 

“You know the reasons. You just refuse to admit them, Akira.” The familiar tone of voice and the small chuckle that proceeded it only reassured him that it was, indeed, Joker. 

“What…?” The soft cloth covering his eyes shifted and he felt the fabric sting his already open wounds. Akira hissed at the pain, but could not bring himself to fight back. He was far too tired and done with the constant torment. 

“The reason why is simple. You can find it without searching very far. We are, after all, in the place where you realized it.” Joker was still whispering softly, and Akira shivered at the sensation running down his spine from the contact of soft skin on his ear. 

“What do you mean…?” Akira was barely audible at this point, taking the words to heart. Realized what? He had been beaten, that was sure, but he did not know of the reason Joker was talking about. He still wasn’t entirely sure how Joker was even _there_. 

“You’ll remember soon enough. The door to the truth lies only in the eye of the mind. What you’ve once repressed will come to shed light on your deepest, innermost thoughts.” And with that, a blinding, sharp pain erupted through his head and spine. Akira gave a loud cry as he felt the room whirl around him, but Joker’s hands were still covering his eyes. He could not tell if they were in the same positions anymore before he felt a faint nauseous feeling at the back of his throat. His mind wandered and floated adrift various, trivial thoughts. 

_Who am I…?_

_I…enjoyed it?_

_What’s going on…_

The memories of confusion and distress ransacked his skull, and the pain only grew more intense. He could hear the laughter and amusement of the police officers in the room, and was sure they were staring at him but his eyes were still cloaked behind soft red gloves. Joker sighed in his ear and moved further away from him, the small whisper he gave fading into the darkness behind Akira. 

“I only wish that you could have remembered this, without experiencing it all over again.” 

What did he mean by that? Akira opened his eyes and saw the familiar scene before him. The police officers were sighing in relief as the signed confession was passed from one person to the other, before a younger officer in the standard blue uniform left the room quietly. Akira was sitting on the floor, knees to his chest and raw bruised hands resting upon them. He could feel his mind wander but be brought back swiftly to reality by a throaty chuckle here and there, aside from the mild chatter of voices he could no longer understand clearly. His eyes were unfocused and he had trouble keeping them directed at anything for long, so he just leaned into himself and sighed. The dull pain rummaging through his form was almost unnoticeable when he sat like this on the cold, steel floor beneath him. Suddenly one officer spoke above the rest, loud enough to gather Akira’s attention from his sleepy, drugged thoughts. 

“Hey, we should celebrate something like this. It’s only once that you get to make the famous leader of the Phantom Thieves confess after all. ‘Sides, not like he’s gonna last long anyway.” 

“Whaddya got in mind? Sushi? Sukiyaki?” A second voice spoke, younger sounding than the first. 

“Man, this kid’s always got food on his mind, doesn’t he?” A third voice, skeptical in nature. 

“Nah, I was thinking more along the lines of _fun_. We got ourselves quite worked up because of him, only natural he’d be the one to de-stress us too.” The first speaker had a strange tone to his voice. Was it greed? No, maybe it was more of a commanding tone. Akira’s drug riddled mind could not lay a finger on what it was, but he did look up from his ball on the floor. The man closest to him had been speaking; he was wearing a dark blue business suit, his hair was slightly ragged but it seemed to be his natural look by the way he ran his hand through it. The strands were short and dark brown in color. His eyes were hard to discern-somewhere between a reddish brown and a dark dull black. Akira’s eyes had already been playing tricks on him, so he didn’t trust their judgment, but he did see a strange smirk light up the man’s face when he looked up and met his eyes. They had a fire of passion inside of them, not unlike the looks Kamoshida had given Ann during their first encounter. Akira flinched back. He now knew what that tone was. 

It was lust. 

Akira’s eyes widened as the man stepped forward, surrounded by his fellow compatriots. They had fierce expressions on their faces and small chuckles echoed into the young teen’s ears. 

“Maybe we’ll be lucky and he’ll still be a virgin. Sounds fun, doesn’t it?” The leader sounded off, and inched closer. 

“Man that’s dark. But it does sound fun…” The second voice from earlier spoke, the man had a hand on his hips and an intrigued expression on his face. His dark brown suit barely distinguished itself from the man in blue. 

“Why not? Little prick gave us a rough time after all.” The third voice chimed in, gritty and hard like sandpaper. 

Akira knew where this was going and tried to back away from the hand reaching for him but his body was no longer listening to his mind; he couldn’t move. He could only stare as the hand grabbed him by his hair and yanked him up off of the floor. The older men cooed in response to his gasp and whimper, before he knew it he was being thrown down on top of the steel table. The man in brown was above his head, staring down with a sick grin on his face as he held Akira’s hands behind his dark curls. The two in front of Akira’s view were grinning as well, and when he felt a hand on his thigh he kicked out blindly, desperate to try and curb the coming event. 

“Still got some fight in you, huh? That could be fun for us.” The leader of the group mused, placing a hand on the steel of the table and the other hand on Akira’s chest, fumbling with one of the buttons on his blazer. The other, rough sounding one was gripping tightly onto the teen’s left ankle, nails digging into the skin under the fabric of his pants. Akira was breathing faster and his eyes were darting around the three men. He let out a whimper when the man in blue started to undo the buttons on the blazer and he felt a cold hand snake up his sweater and feel its way around his skin, which was still riddled with bruises and ached to the touch. 

“Nngh...” Akira gasped when the hand ran over a particularly painful spot, stopping above it before pressing the fingertips down into the sore patch of skin. Tears threatened to fall out of the corners of his eyes as his skin flared up, fire burning from deep within. Someone huffed a pleased sigh before the hand left, and Akira opened his closed eyes. He did not know when he had closed them, but he could see the elated grin on the man in blue’s face. Akira felt rage bubbling up inside him and was all too happy when he got the chance; As soon as the man leaned back far enough to be in range, and his hand rested on the waistband of Akira’s school slacks, the teen threw a hard kick into the man’s chest. He stumbled backwards and onto the floor, crashing with a loud _thud_.

 _Serves you right._

“Haha, he got you good boss!” the man in brown laughed, but tightened his hold on Akira’s sore and raw wrists. The gritty-sounding one leaned forward and with a smirk on his face and brought his elbow down hard into Akira’s stomach. The boy was coughing up blood violently and before he knew it, the man in blue had recovered and pressed his hand hard around the boy’s throat, making sure he was making eye contact. The reddish-brown eyes flared with fire, and his face was like steel with the way the cold anger contorted his every feature. 

“That was the last act of rebellion you’ll be making, kid.” The dead, menacing sound to his voice caused Akira to flinch a little. But none-the-less, Akira kept his gaze of defiance. Adrenaline spiked though his veins and fear motivated him enough to weaken the haze of the drug just enough for the raven-haired boy to spit blood into the man’s face. 

“Go to hell.” Akira managed to choke out, before his head was slammed into the metal table. His ears rung and his vision blacked out for a second, and he could feel those same cold hands on his hips once more. The fabric of his pants was being rustled and before he knew it the garment was being slid down, just in time for his vision to clear. But that was the same moment he felt the ice cold touch of skin in a place it shouldn’t have been. 

The hand had slipped between his bruised skin and that of the waistband of his boxers. Akira let out a sharp, tearful cry as he realized what was happening. The man with the gritty voice chuckled in a dark and low tone, and the man in brown was still smiling above him. He hated it. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll fuck you into submission soon enough.” The man holding onto his ankle moved to his thigh and pressed his nails into it hard. The boy could feel the sharp pricks of pain beneath the slack fabric that still sat upon his flesh. Akira wanted to gag and scream, but his throat was already so sore from doing so earlier. He could barely whimper as the world started to spin around him. His thoughts were racing at a mile a minute. Only one was coherent enough to spill into the fog in his mind. 

_They’re going to rape me._

The raven-haired boy writhed in the grip holding him down. More laughter filled the room as he felt his member being stroked against his will. A tear fell down his face, only noticeable by the sting it gave a small cut on the side of his head. 

_This can’t be happening._

The man in brown leaned forward and still keeping Akira’s hands forced against the table with one of his own calloused hands, he placed the other hand around the teen’s jaw and forced him into a rough, sour kiss. Akira’s teeth ached from being hit by other teeth, and as the hand reached down to wrap itself around his throat, the taste of cigarettes filled his mouth when the older man’s tongue was forced inside. 

_Help me_. 

The man in blue was practically cackling with crazed laughter at watching the teen below him squirm. He was forcing his thighs apart and yanked on the remaining clothing, pulling them down to the struggling boy’s feet. His hands were still wandering aimlessly and Akira could feel his blood rushing to his head, where the man in brown was still sucking on his lips and exploring the inside of his mouth. Heat was radiating off of his body and the man in blue climbed up onto the table, positioning himself between the younger boy’s legs. The strains of sore muscles were hindering Akira’s ability to fight back. His dwindling sanity and adrenaline were wearing down, like ticking to the countdown of a clock that would leave him shattered and helpless. The man in blue placed his free hand to his belt to unbuckle it, and Akira closed his eyes and screamed internally. 

_Sojiro!_

Suddenly, the door to the room was loudly knocked upon. Once slow, once loudly and drawn out, then two quick taps. The men all groaned and the grip on Akira’s wrists slackened. The gritty man huffed in disappointment and the man in brown sighed, annoyed and angry. 

“Man we were just getting started!” 

The man in blue leaned down to the confused but still frightened Akira, whispering close to his ear with a hand wrapped around his throat. 

“You got lucky, _this_ time.” Akira shivered at the man’s words before he was abruptly let go of. The man in blue roughly pulled him from the table and onto the floor where he hit it with a metallic _thud_. Akira’s arms were wrapped around himself, knees shaking as they rested against his chest. The room felt ten times as cold on his skin and he was shivering violently. Loud gasps of air were sucked into his lungs and he realized he was hyperventilating. One of the men leaned down next to his head, gripping at his hair roughly. 

“Clean yourself up. You’ve got a visitor.” 

When the hand let go of the dark curls, the men were already leaving the room. As soon as the door shut with a loud slam, Akira let out a repressed wail. Teardrops stained his face and he could barely hold himself together anymore. Sobs wracked his body and the air permeated his bones. The intensity of the situation had set in. He calmed himself down enough to roughly adjust his clothing back to their original places on his body, before burying his head in his knees again. That was close, _too close_. 

Akira’s thoughts were running wild once more. What if they hadn’t been interrupted? How far would they have gone? He knew it was Sae who had stopped them, unknowingly curbing the attempt before it had a chance to become reality. If not for her then…

He felt utterly helpless. If she hadn’t been there he would still be under their touch and those sickening sounds of laughter would still be pounding into his eardrums. He clutched his face in his hands and another cry left his body. 

He was useless. 

He couldn’t even save himself. 

If he couldn’t save himself, then he couldn’t _dare_ hope to save anyone else. 

Within seconds he felt a warm, gloved hand on each shoulder. Akira flinched and lifted his head up right as the arms wrapped around his chest with a quiet ‘ _shh_ ’. The familiar warmth of a body pressing to his back sent waves of reassurance that radiated through him. The sight of red gloves gripping onto his hands as they rested against his knees allowed him to finally _breathe._

“I’m here…It’ll be okay.” The sound of his own voice felt strange against his ears, as he knew he hadn’t spoken. But he also knew it was Joker consoling him. Akira did not notice his presence in the room. He wasn’t entirely sure he would ever be able to. 

“Why! Why did that…why didn’t I remember…”Akira fumbled over his words and felt his hands being gripped harder. 

“You repressed the memory. I don’t doubt it; after all, we were drugged. And then there’s the violence…” The eerie calm to the voice only made Akira feel worse. Sometimes he wished Joker would lose his cool, even if it only ever happened once. He wanted Joker to experience the same feelings he was feeling right now. He thought back to how Joker suddenly appeared out of nowhere. 

“How are you here..?” 

“I am you, so I am always here.” 

“No, why weren’t you here _before_. During the other dreams…” Akira trailed off, his eyes unfocused and staring off into the distance. He allowed himself to melt into Joker’s form, so warm and soft and calming. He could feel the muscles under the dark coat behind him tense. 

“…I’m not sure myself. I’m sorry.” The voice of Joker faltered only a little. But it was enough to spread the unease in Akira’s stomach to his throat. He licked his lips and thought carefully before speaking again. 

“Are they even dreams?” Akira’s voice was so light and soft, he thought for sure Joker hadn’t heard him. But the muscles still grew tense around him. He had, and that made Akira worry. Why wasn’t Joker saying anything? 

“…” The silence behind him only made Akira sigh in frustration. 

“What’s happening? Am I going crazy? Why can’t I wake up…” Akira was crying again, but this time a hand was there to reach up and wipe them away. The gentle way the fingers brushed his skin, taking care not to make any preexisting wounds worse, only made him want to cry more. 

“I only know what you know, Akira.” Joker’s voice was solemn, but it was also hollow as well. Akira guessed he could only expect so much from his alter ego. Of course they wouldn’t know, since they were one in the same. 

“This isn’t fair. Why did everyone leave us? Leave _me_. Why did I have to go through _that_!” The bitter voice tore through the air and into the growing darkness. The interrogation room had long since faded away, along with the various injuries he had endured. The pain within his heart was another matter. It felt raw; like flesh was rotting and festering within his chest. Akira’s lungs ached as he still continued to sob and fight for oxygen, heartbeat still beating much too fast for his own good. 

Everyone he had loved, cherished, and cared for left him behind in the dust. The darkness of the world slowly closed in on himself and himself alone; Joker was there yet he also wasn’t. Akira could tell that his other half knew what he was thinking because the hands clenched around his own were growing tighter. He didn’t care. The warm reassurance was nothing but background noise as his heart raced faster. Akira closed his eyes tightly, clawing at the blazer on his chest where his heart beat so rapidly under his skin. Out of everything that had happened in these dreams, the most recent was far too disturbing for his heart and mind to bear. 

“They were just using us.” The broken and mournful way Joker’s words fell from his lips only filled Akira with more ache and rage. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Nobody was supposed to be **betraying** him anymore. He wasn’t supposed to be crying anymore. 

Yet here Akira was; a broken, shattered, emotional mess on the floor. 

He hadn’t much thought about what would happen if his friends and family were to leave him, because he never thought such a thing would happen. Akira always thought he could trust them, but as it turned out, he couldn’t trust anyone. He never thought the _police_ ; the people who were supposed to protect him would ever be so corrupt. Akira never would have imagined Sojiro leaving him out in the rain, cold and shivering, alone and lost in the world. Or Makoto’s cruel words splitting open his chest as every one of his friends took hold of the knife and _stabbed_ and **cut** and _scraped_ and **_tore his heart to shreds_**. 

Akira had never wanted to die before. Suicide was always such a taboo in his mind and soul. One person taking their own unique, precious life for one reason or another. Even when times would get rough or the bleakness of the situation overrode the hope daybreak would bring, he had never understood why individuals chose to kill themselves. What could possess a person to drive themselves to ruin. Akira trembled as he pulled closer into himself, another wail shrieking throughout the dark. 

He was sure now, what they had felt. Why they had done so. 

Is this what Shiho felt when she jumped off of the school rooftop? 

It was. Akira was sure of it. 

All of the helplessness in the world amounted to nothing when compared to his feelings then. The ache in his chest turned into a blazing burn that spread throughout his body. It singed and flared and **_burnt_** and he could feel his mind crack under the pressure. Akira was suddenly acutely aware he no longer cared about his life. There was no purpose without people to share it with, to help him in his time of need, to **care**. Even then, those people he trusted had left him behind, rotting like fruit in the sun and ignoring his calls and pleas for companionship. 

If this was what love felt like then he did not want it. 

If this was what true pain felt like, then he’d rather die and get it over with. 

Akira could feel his heart twist in his ribcage; Joker could sense the change in mentality. A wince leapt out into the stale dark air as Akira turned to face himself, crimson eyes dulling as the reality of the desire set it; a sudden urge to **_end it all_**. Joker must’ve felt the sincere and unspoken plea from Akira’s mind, whose face was contorted in a mix of rage, envy, hatred, loneliness, and pain, because Akira felt the gloved hands move up his body, leaving his fingertips to rest along the floor as his body was roughly turned around to face his other self. 

“If that is your wish…I will grant it.” Those dull crimson eyes were now blazing like fire. Joker may have been Akira’s other self but he was also determined; just like Akira wanted himself to be. He knew he wasn’t anymore. He didn’t have to be. Joker could do that for him, until the end. That was his purpose after all. He was just another mask to be worn and discarded as needed. Akira stopped thinking about it. It didn’t matter anymore. His mind continued to crack under the duress from his heartstrings. He was going to shatter like frozen glass onto the floor, and he wanted it _so badly_. He wanted relief from the torment. He wanted to break down and cry with every thought of his friend’s bloody corpses laughing and eating him, the twins and Igor’s disappointed glares, Sojiro’s false sense of security, **_and those damn police officers_** -

“Break me. Just break me already….” Akira barely whispered as hands that had been firmly gripping his shoulders softened and left his sides. The tension in the air was heavy and thick, Akira could almost swallow it. It was a silent affair when the mirror reflection in front of himself nodded in acknowledgement. 

Those soft red gloves ran their way up to the top of the turtleneck, briefly placing themselves comfortably before the rough, hard squeezing began. Akira’s airflow was cut off swiftly, his lungs hitched and he kept his arms to the side, allowing himself to take in the feel of hands gripping at his throat. The reflection in front of him never wavered, still those fire-like eyes burned into his own. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant, but he didn’t fret over it; he would be dead soon anyways. That was his wish. 

Nobody could take this away from him. Not even his so-called friends. 

Not even Sojiro would butt a word in over how Akira decided to die. 

The Velvet Room would surely forget he ever existed. 

The cackling of the men in suits would die and Akira would no longer feel their touch burning on his skin. 

Slowly, his mind started to blank out. His vision blurred and he could no longer hear anything but the ringing in his ears as his oxygen deprived brain tried to logically and instinctually fight back. His hands, however, still caressed the floor. He had no energy left within him to fight, even if he wanted to. The lungs within his chest screamed at the raven-haired boy for oxygen it would not get. His eye-lids started drooping lazily, lack of air affecting his ability to think clearly. 

Before Akira’s vision faded completely, he thought about how he had finally resorted to something he would never had condone or participated in before. It scared him. 

Akira felt something inside of him **_s n a p_**. 

It would have been better, he thought, if it was the sound of his neck. 

It wasn’t. 

____________________________________________

Akira was unsure of exactly _how many_ cycles he had been through. Each one was different and never continued from the last. Almost every one ended in his death anyway, so it was hard to picture how he could ever go back into a previous one; So many had passed in a daze, a blur of stilled pictures and motionless bodies pricked at his memories. Some were more memorable, however, and continued to haunt his mind even when he had surely thought this scenario or that loop would be the end of it all. He still tasted the sour blood from certain horrific sequences well into the next, and the recent memories of torture and gore bore well into his shattered psyche as the motions of each new atrocious dream landed him in a state of permanent haze. How long had he been re-living death and betrayal? How many times had he been through the dreams? Akira lost count after ten more or so from his initial suicide with Joker. He did notice, however, that Joker had not been present in any future scenarios. It wasn’t as pleasant as he thought it would be. 

So many times Akira had found himself encased in blood and bruises and gore. Once he awoke to see himself rotting away on the floor of cold, dark room with the voices of cheery individuals behind a locked door. No matter how loudly he cried and screamed, the laughter continued on as if nothing was wrong. He could no longer feel much of any pain by the time he had finally died from his wounds. The stench of rotting flesh made its way into many sequences afterward. 

Another time he had been ignored by everyone, passing by each person he knew without them noticing him there. He shook many shoulders and shouted various times, the names of all the people who had betrayed him. None of them moved at his presence, nobody noticed his hard grip on their arm or his voice next to their ears. It seemed everyone was oblivious to his existence. Akira even found the courage to bluntly slap Makoto, partly to get her to do something, anything to garner her attention. Partly to get back at her for being a complete bitch in earlier scenarios. The reddened mark of a hand on her face dissipated quickly, and she continued talking with whomever in the confines of Leblanc, where that particular dream took place. Akira, in his annoyance and frustration, found it easier to just take a kitchen knife and end that scenario on his own terms. It was not hard to do after all, and nobody stopped him. When the knife clattered to the floor and both forearms had deeply gushing wounds stretching the length to his wrists, Akira wondered how many more dreams it would take for him to finally be allowed to die. Laughter of friendly conversation filled the air as he slumped behind the bar at Leblanc, turning away from the familiar faces lining the burgundy booth seats. His blood stained the hardwood floor and he tried to force his heart to beat faster, to end it all sooner so he would be free of the dream. 

_Hopefully, the last one._ He thought to himself. 

It wasn’t, of course. 

Eventually it became normal for him to take his own life in quick or sickening ways. Some scenarios had ways out and some did not. Many were centered on his immediate friend group in Tokyo, and many times he had been murdered by their bloodied hands. Sometimes he had provoked death and some were by accident. Either way he still ended up in a new occurrence. Some were with Sojiro, who almost never cared enough to try and stop him from breaking his own neck or slitting his throat open. Those in particular were painful because some of the time Sojiro had actually tried in part to stop them. It only made Akira feel worse, even though by that point he hated everyone around himself. 

Once his parents actually showed up and were involved in some way. They seemed to at least care to some extent about his well being. That ended when the house they were inside of slowly caught fire around them all, and again nobody noticed the flames until Akira was already searching the kitchen for a blunt, quick way to kill himself. Once he had finally found what he was looking for, his mother was up in flames, still trying to attempt a conversation with a smile on her face. The burnt and charred flesh lit up and crackled in his eyes and he just sighed before jamming the sharpest knife he could find into his neck. Blood poured out and he blacked out fairly quickly, the only unsettling thing about it was the way his mother and father just stood there and watched with happy smiles on their faces as they looked down upon their dying son. He wished he wouldn’t have to see them again in any other dreams. It was tiring to think who he would see next. 

So when Akira finally awoke to a familiar blue coated room, blinking tears that had already trailed down his face and to the floor around him, he felt confused. A face he had not seen in any of the scenarios was hovering over his own, with a standard serious look filling those dark crimson eyes. They were staring back into his own, almost waiting for something else to happen. Akira’s throat felt raw and dry, and he allowed his head to settle back onto the brick floor below him. The lights above him came from nowhere in particular and he felt the burn of hands gripping his wrists above his head with a small wince. His left side was aching already, and a dull pain flitted through it when the person looming over him shifted their knees, which were straddling his waist. A small sigh erupted from their lips as the grip loosened and they pulled away, leaving a perfect view of a certain white-clad brunette with an annoyed attitude. 

“Is it finished, then?” Akechi spoke to no one in particular. He crossed his arms but still straddled Akira. The brush of a knee near his side sent throbs of pain through the boy. If this was yet another dream then Akechi was going to have to make quick work of Akira, because he wouldn’t wait until the pain got worse in order to snap his own neck. 

“It is.” A dark voice boomed into the room. Akira wasn’t familiar with it, and it didn’t sound quite human either. Before he could make any guesses as to whom it belonged, that very same persona Akechi had summoned what felt like years ago hovered forth, only slightly in Akira’s viewpoint. Akira’s head throbbed with a headache brimming with poison as battery-acid settled into his tired muscles and he felt even weaker underneath Akechi’s gaze. Those dull mahogany eyes never left his own. He was starting to feel very small in the world when the persona fizzled out of existence and Akechi took Akira’s face onto one gloved hand, turning his face to and fro. A small smirk grew on the older boys face when he saw something that pleased him. 

“So, how was it? Was it everything that you imagined it would be?” Akechi chuckled and Akira felt the hand go limp before his head was ungraciously dropped to the floor with a small thud. The headache grew worse and his mind tried to find an answer for the person looming over him. _Everything I imagined it would be?_ He hadn’t the slightest clue what the brunette was talking about. What had they done to him in this dream that they hadn’t before? It suddenly clicked that this was where the dreams had all started. Akira’s eyes grew wide and his throat hitched, breathing even more erratic than before.

“…W…What?” his throat rasped, no longer able to recognize his own words as they fell from his mouth.

“Tell me what it felt like, losing control.” Akechi leaned in and smiled, a sick grin plastering onto his face as he trailed his thumb down Akira’s chin. He could feel something dry lifting off in flakes, and noticed blood had dried to his skin. His eyes stung as they rolled around in his head, trying to focus his gaze into Akechi’s own. Were the dreams all his doing? Did he go through all that hate and _pain_ and horror because Akechi willed it so? Akira’s mind was foggy and the dull ache in his side only grew worse the more Akechi moved above him. An annoyed sigh filled the air as the brunette grew impatient, pulling something from his side and placing the cold metal against Akira’s burning forehead. The metal of a cylinder _clicked_ and Akira finally placed the gun that was held in Akechi hand. A sharp scrape of metal sounded off from the floor beside him. Akira could only guess it was the dagger from earlier. 

“I won’t ask again. Tell me about your trip. Was it fun, seeing your fears come to light? Was it enthralling to see your friends die over and over again-“

“Do it.” Akira cut off the older boy with a lax, blank expression on his face. He focused his steel-grey eyes into Akechi’s surprised scarlet ones and reiterated his earlier statement. 

“Kill me.” 

“What?” The violent pull back from Akechi practically _leaping_ off of Akira brought the pain in his side to a whole new level. He could see the bewilderment in Akechi’s eyes as he took a few steps back, gun still pointed in direction of the younger boys head. “The hell are you talking about?” 

“I’m telling you…To kill me.” Akira managed to raise his right arm over his stomach to grip at the source of his pain. He noticed something falling off of him, like rotten cloth had been draped over his arm. Looking down he saw his metaverse outfit in shambles on his skin, the cyan hoodie and winter coat he wore underneath were showing and perfectly visible. It shocked him for a second, and looking up he noticed Akechi had the same look plastered on his face. It seemed the older boy did not know why the clothing was starting to rot around Akira’s form and back into his civilian clothes. Grimacing as he tried to prop himself up, he stared Akechi down in a feeble attempt to have his demands met. 

“You’re joking. Kurusu-kun would never-“The white-clad boy started, only for a desperate plea to cut him off. 

“Please! Just shoot me and get it over with! “Akira felt the tears fall from his eyes again as his tired body managed to sit up. The wound in his side was no longer there, but it was only barely healed-enough to make the wound disappear but the bruises around it still show. Even the scar was non-existent, as it usually was with metaverse magic. He wondered when Akechi had graced him with a healing spell. Was it to make it easier when he died, if he wasn’t already half dead and delirious from blood loss? Did Akechi want to see his face as he awoke from his demented nightmares free from blood splatter and the haze of a body fighting to stay awake? Maybe it was just to make holding the younger boy down easier, he could still feel the grip of hands around his wrists under the sleeves of his clothing. Akira noticed the older boy did not have any blood on his clothes; they were only slightly scuffled from presumably holding the raven haired boy down. 

Akechi kept still, hiding his eyes behind his honey bangs for a minute before gritting his teeth together. A silence unlike any other filled the room and the tension between the two teens grew along with Akira’s breathing. He found it was increasingly harder to stay awake. At least he wanted to die while still conscious. Suddenly the boy in front of him left out a loud, frustrated scream. The gun was pulled away and the knife he had held in his other hand was thrown across the room in a fit of rage. Akechi was panting and pacing, turning back to Akira with leagues of annoyance and rage filling the air. 

“This wasn’t supposed to happen. You’re supposed to be begging for your life, not begging me to **_end it_**!” Akechi spat the words in Akira’s direction, making the younger boy wince and hold tighter onto his side. Akechi whipped his head back to the opposing wall, a red haze appearing around the boy before he began to speak to himself. 

“What’s going on? I thought you said you took care of it!” 

“I caused the psychotic break as you asked.” 

“That’s not what I meant! Why is he _suicidal_? What did you show him in there that would make him like that?” 

“I showed him only what he feared of seeing, and then some. Don’t blame me for his interpretation of what should follow.” The red haze disappeared and another angry cry leaped out into the room. The brunette turned and ferociously stared down Akira, before stomping over and grabbing the younger boy by the collar. 

“You’re not getting your wish. You’re going live with that trauma for the rest of your life, whether you like it or not.” Akechi didn’t give Akira a chance to answer, before he brought the gun down swiftly on the side of Akira’s head. The younger boy cried out and saw darkness fill his vision as he was knocked out by the pain. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow you made it to the end of this madness _CONGRATS_! You survived. The story however, is not over. This was just chapter one muheHAHAHAHA(if this is appearing on the second chapter, it's a glitch, sorry for the confusion!)
> 
> Sorry to make you cry and hate me, but it needed to happen. Seriously. They never EVER explain what happens in the interrogation room. I humbled myself with this. Spoiled myself even. 
> 
> And Psychotic breaks. Nobody ever goes into details with this. I needed those juicy, sweet forbidden apple fruit details.  
> Please don't be afraid to leave feedback for the MUSIC PLAYLIST. I do offer music to be played during chapters, but I need feedback to make sure it fits with the main theme of the writing, and mood, tone, ect.
> 
> If there are any _grammar errors/mistakes/ect_. LET ME KNOW! See you next time my horror junkies!


	2. Hollow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What exactly happens _after_ a psychotic break?
> 
> Nothing comforting, apparently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to the hell hole of my mind. How may you be served today?  
> No graphic warning this time folks.
> 
> It is **HIGHLY ADVISED** to read the chapter along with the music. Right click to loop. There are two options for this chapter.
> 
>  _Option 1_ : 1 hour loop of an Instrumental: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hj7wzG-yIGY 
> 
> _Option 2_ : Loop this for a song with Lyrics that will fit the entire chapter: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h42_h8hBtWI 
> 
> Enjoy~

Akira awoke to the ice cold sensation of water pelting his face, neck, arms, legs, and torso. The sudden jolt of adrenaline caused him to jump and gasp for air, opening his eyes only to have more of the frozen liquid pelt him. He struggled against the restraints on his wrists, keeping them firmly above his head as his limbs flailed, hitting the cramped walls of the ceramic that surrounded him. The teen’s skin was burning, mostly due to the cold of the water, but also from the various bruises that lined his arms and torso, underneath his black night shirt. Akira looked down at his soaked clothing and noticed his winter coat and hoodie were missing- only his shirt, blue jeans, and socks left behind. The sound of the water smacking his skin reverberated throughout the room, and as he squinted his eyes and looked around he noticed he was in a semi-dark bathtub. The shower head was spraying him with the icy water, and a certain brunette with crimson eyes was staring down at him. A smirk was on their face.

_Asshole._

“Oh good, the blood’s all gone. How was your nap? Didn’t get too comfortable did you?” Akechi’s hand turned the knob of the faucet, causing the water to stop attacking the younger boy. Akira writhed and fought against his restraints. The sound of metal on metal let him know he was handcuffed to the hand rail on the back wall. His wrists were already sore and a numb feeling was on the edge of his fingertips. The sharp pain of the bruised skin digging into the metal only made his efforts worse, as with every wince he made he slowly stopped struggling. Akechi was still smiling down at him with amusement. It made Akira want to strangle the older boy.

“Where are we? Why am I still alive-“The water was turned on again, causing Akira to let out a startled yelp as the ice cold water turned to blazing hot fire. His nerves were shot from the experience, a strange mix of cold and hot filling his senses as the water was turned off again. Akira glared at Akechi, who simply stared at the younger boy.

“Shut up. The dead don’t talk.” Akechi turned away, out of the door in which most of the light was entering the room. The light shifted and Akechi walked toward a table in the other room, maneuvering items upon it that Akira couldn’t quite make out.

“…What do you mean by that.” Akira shook his head just enough to knock more water droplets off. He had since given up on wriggling out of his restraints. His wrists were sore and the cuffs were far too tight. Allowing his arms to droop to a more comfortable position, he kept his stare on the brunette in the other room.

“I mean,” Akechi’s gaze hardened, a stare of pure fire piercing Akira’s soul, “What’s dead can never die. The only reason you’re still here is because of _him_ ” he gestured to his head, likening his hand to a gun while doing so, “It’s all his fault that you‘re like this. I didn’t realize he was going to make you suicidal. And I don’t bury the dead.” The phrasing unsettled Akira.

_What’s dead can never die…?_

“I wasn’t talking about _that_. I meant why you wanted me dead to begin with.” Akira deflected, tilting his head so it was resting on the inside of his left arm, trying his best to be comfortable in the bathtub. His clothes were clinging to him unnaturally and the cold and hot of the water only irritated his sensitive flesh. Akechi continued to fiddle with items on the table, placing some of them into his briefcase that was always by his side. Akira realized, for the first time in probably ever, Akechi was not wearing his standard uniform. He wore a simple white dress shirt, untucked from the brown slacks he wore. There was no blazer to be found. Of course, though, he still wore his trademark black leather gloves. When Akira spotted them, he felt his eye twitch. “Didn’t we get over your bullshit already?”

“When don’t I want you dead? You’re annoying, pathetic, irritating, and far too confident for your own good. Or, you were until I snapped your mind like a toothpick.” Akira grimaced and kept his glare on the back of Akechi’s head. He could not see the older boy’s face, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t feel the smirk on it. As if he knew what was going through Akira’s mind, Akechi continued on.”I wanted you dead so I could throw your little friends under the bus. If the police are on their trail, they’ll get off of mine.”

“What trail? Everyone thinks you’ve gone missing. We thought you were dead…”Akira shifted his weight, looking away from the older boy. Akechi stopped whatever he was doing, turning his head over his shoulder towards the ebony curls that covered those dull grey eyes.

“That doesn’t mean _they_ think I’m dead, too. The conspiracy wants both of us gone. Permanently.” Akechi lifted his signature weapon, twisting the silencer off before setting it on the table. He began to disassemble the weapon as he spoke.”I’m going into hiding. I’d rather not get myself killed by Shido’s associates or be sent to jail with them. I figured since there were some spare bodies lying around; why not put them to good use?” He started cleaning the spent gunpowder from the metal, taking careful consideration into his motions and movement. Akira just huffed a sigh of annoyance and leaned his head back, closing his eyes.

“So by allowing the thieves to get caught by the higher-ups, you get away scot free? Sounds like you, Akechi.” Akira heard movement from the other room and half-opened his eyes, peering through drowsy pupils to the doorway. Akechi had moved out of view, but he could hear shuffling of sorts. Cupboards opened and closed. The faint scent of sulfur hit his nose and Akira tapped his head against the wall once more, his stomach churning. He hated that smell, the smell of gunpowder in the air. “You still haven’t answered my first question, either.”

“We’re in a safe place, that’s all you need to know.” Akechi said this as if it were some trivial matter, barely saying it loud enough for Akira to hear, “And everything was going just fine until you had to go and ruin it. I can’t kill you now, it would be no fun. Besides,” Akechi walked back into view; fiddling with his weapon some more before beginning to piece it back together. “I may have a use for you yet.”

“What would that be? Decorating your furniture with my blood? You can do better than that. Red doesn’t suit you as much as you think.” Akira’s smirk went unnoticed, Akechi kept his eyes on the gun before him.

“My plan will go on with or without your death. It was just an added bonus at that point.” A small hum of satisfaction rung through the air, when a particularly difficult piece of the puzzle fit back together, the metal clicking into place, “I just have to make sure you don’t leave, or kill yourself for that matter.”

“Is that why I’m handcuffed to your bathtub? Are you into some kinky shit or what?” Akira continued, jostling the chain on the cuff just enough to let the metal _clink_ sound out.

“It was fun to hear your screams when I cast that mental breakdown on you. How long did you think you were out for? Ten? Twenty minutes? The whole entire time you were screaming and crying and flailing like a child. It was amusing to say the least.” Akira’s smirk faded and he stared at the back of Akechi’s head with a passion to kill. Akechi tilted his head back, smirking back at the younger boy.”Is that kinky enough for you, Kurusu-kun?”

“ _That_ was a psychotic breakdown? Why are we not dead, then? Didn’t you cast that skill on yourself during your fight?”Akira’s eyes widened, the truth of the matter racking his brain in a vain attempt at understanding. The headache he had begun to notice only grew worse with the thoughts running through his head. The way Akechi was acting made him uneasy. Did the psychotic break he cast affect him too?

“I only used a taste of that power, I made sure to use the full force of it on you. For some reason or another, I don’t think it kills persona users. Oh, sorry, _former_ persona users.” Akechi kept smiling as he lifted the newly cleaned weapon, placing it into the briefcase as well.

“Of course. You couldn’t be so lucky.” Akira grinned, but it was shallow with the realization that he could no longer feel Arsene within him. The brunette was right; he no longer had a persona. He honestly couldn’t tell if that was a good or bad thing at that point. He had no plans of using one anytime soon anyway. Akira wished Akechi would falter and break that smug attitude of his. Akechi merely paused, briefly, before returning to his work.

“I should’ve expected nothing less from you. No matter.”Once Akechi was finished, he shut the briefcase and closed the clasps that held it shut. He set it on the floor and turned back to Akira, eyes void of emotion. Dull. Lifeless. Akira thought he was looking at a beautiful doll before the older boy moved, walking towards him without a sound. The younger boy tensed and pulled as far back into the wall of the bathtub that he could. Akechi leaned forward and grasped the raven-haired boy’s chin, tilting it painfully upwards to meet his empty eyes.

“Stay here and behave. You’re not getting out of those cuffs. And to make sure you don’t pull something stupid out of that pretty head of yours…“ Akechi pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket. He glided his right thumb over Akira’s lips, slowly moving it back and forth like he had done in the Velvet Room before. It made Akira wonder two things; How did he know about, and have access to the Velvet Room, and when did he seem so interested in harassing the younger boy? Killing him, sure. But harassing? That was unlike him. Akira felt the thumb try and press into his mouth, and when he allowed it in he bit down hard, earning a wince in reply and a leathery metallic taste coated his tongue. Akechi stared into those grey eyes with a look that put any of Sojiro’s disapproving glares to shame.

“Behaving like a rabid cat, are we?” Akechi murmured, pulling his hand back just enough to check on the wound his thumb received. His teeth breached the safety of the gloves; three small red lines adorned his flesh in a neat row, varying in length. Akira hummed contently, proud of his work.

“Well if it’s a _dog_ you’re looking for, Ryuji is a great choice. You two hate each other enough, I’m sure he would make a great playmate.” The hollow smile Akira made only reinforced his desire to rid himself of any thoughts of the other thieves. He may now know that what he had seen, and experienced, were simply plays on his mind. But that didn’t mean they didn’t leave an impact, a permanent scar on his psyche. Akira didn’t want to know what they were capable of in the real world. He’d seen enough gruesome gore in those dreams to last a lifetime, and then some. The teen couldn’t bring himself to trust them anymore. It made his head spin just thinking about it.

“That’s another reason you’re stuck here; I can’t have you running off to warn your friends of their coming doom. And maybe it’s a little selfish, I know, but I’ve always toyed with the idea of having you all to myself.” A sickly sweet smile plastered itself onto Akechi’s face, before he gripped the bruised skin on Akira’s arm roughly, enough to make the younger boy yelp out and the handkerchief to be tied swiftly around his mouth, gagging him. Akechi fixed the fabric tight around his head and pulled back, looking over his work with a content grin. He huffed in amusement as Akira struggled again, trying to speak but only muffled sounds coming from his sore throat. One glare up at his captor said it all. _If only looks could kill…._

“I’m off to do some work. I’ll be back later. Feel free to help yourself to the kitchen. Oh, wait.” A snicker leapt from those pale, chapped lips, “You’re on a diet. Sorry, it slipped my mind.”

_I’m about to slip something else from your mind you son of a-_

“Try not to take your gag off. I would hate to come home to see you bleeding all over my nice clean bathtub. It would be a shame if you bit off your own tongue. You do have a beautiful voice after all.” Akira’s eyes widened. Akechi put the gag in for that purpose alone? He had already pondered the idea of screaming until whomever lived nearby came to his aid, but it was a small part of him that actually _wanted_ help. He found it more endearing that Akechi would try to stop his forth-coming death at all. The more Akira thought about it, the more he realized he didn’t want to leave, to be saved. Even if he left there was nowhere for him to return to. The café was out of the question. He no longer felt safe anywhere near his friends, or Sojiro. What would they say or do to him next? It was only a matter of time, he concluded, before they betrayed him after all. Given, he did not feel safe around Akechi _at all_ , but you keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Even if you’re severely doubting both parties. When the realization struck, he leaned back in his restraints and tilted his head up to Akechi’s scarlet ones. He felt empty. Hollow. Akechi, for some odd reason he did not know of, wanted him around. Even if it had mysterious intentions or disastrous consequences. The look on Akira’s face said it all-his steel grey eyes were dull and empty, his skin had never been so pale before, his breathing had slowed to below normal level, and his still-wet hair clung to his face and neck haphazardly. He felt dead. Inside and out. Akechi noticed the change in behavior, and patted the top of the younger boy’s head before whispering in his ear.

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure to let the kitty have some time to play later. Be a good boy and don’t die on me just yet.” And with that, the brunette turned around, swiftly picked the briefcase off of the floor without losing pace, and left out of a door that was impossible to see from the angle of the bathroom. Darkness closed in around the younger boy as he realized he was alone, shivering in the cold and wet clothes he was still trapped in. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes wearily, the drowsiness finally kicking in full force. He was sore, and cold, and tired. _So tired_. Akira didn’t resist when the world drifted back to nothingness, wanting only to sleep if he was not allowed death.

_____________________________________________

It had been hours since Akechi left. Akira tried sleeping the best he could, but in the position he was in, it was far too uncomfortable. The cold of the water stuck around in his half-dry clothes and what little room he had in the bathtub was cramped. His arms were hanging painfully from the handcuffs, and he tried to prop himself up better but the pain was still there. His skin ached where bruises were blossoming over, all in a different hue of cerulean, magenta, violet, and teal. The faint light from the outer room was the only thing keeping his vision focused. It was hard to see much of anything in the dark, dank room. He couldn’t even see into the mirror above the wash basin opposite of the bathtub. Akira’s head throbbed with a dull headache and only grew worse the more he shivered. His jaw was sore from being held open by the cloth wrapped around his head. He couldn’t feel much of anything besides the pain and cold.

It was annoying. It was torture.

Akira wasn’t so sure when the lines between the two started blurring.

There were no sounds aside from the faint beat of his heart, an occasional drip from the shower faucet, and the faint hum of something mechanical. No smell scented the air. Not even the sulfur from earlier survived the long, boring hours since the brunette left. Akira had faded in between sleep and consciousness a few times, but each time he was jolted awake by some thought on his mind-like where Akechi had gone, and _why_ \- or some hallucination it conjured up. Once he thought Ryuji was standing beside the bath, hands half-resting in his pockets. The snarl that stained his lips was unnatural, and it curled up in an awkward angle when he laughed at the teen before him.

“Look at what’s happened to you. You’re _his_ now, you know.”

Akira could only turn his head away, unable to speak and unable to bear the sight of the blonde. But it seemed the apparition had other plans. It leaned forward and laced its fingers into curly black locks, yanking hard in order to tilt Akira’s head back.

“You can’t hide from me. From _us_. We’ll find you, one way or another.” The voice was warped and hissed in an eerie pitch. As soon as it had appeared, it left, taking the pain and light with it. Akira sat in the darkness for a few seconds before he realized there were _hands_ covering his eyes. He wriggled and fidgeted out of the touch, only for the fingers to reach back and cover him again. A soft voice cooed into his ear and he whimpered when he recognized it.

“Shh. It’s okay. We’ll always be here, watching. Waiting. You know you can’t run from us, Akira.” The sweet gentle voice of Futaba was replaced with a slow, crazed laughter. He could feel the fingers press farther into his skin, “We’ll always be here to watch you fall.”

He tried to speak once more, but only the mumbled sounds of gibberish filled the room. More hands were appearing on his body. His arms, legs, shoulders, face. They were everywhere. They reached and gripped and oozed onto his skin. For a second they didn’t feel like hands at all. They felt like slime being absorbed into his flesh. The hands continued their assault on his frame, and the various voices of his so-called friends echoed into his ears.

“Yeah! We go wherever you go! But not because we want to.” Ann’s cheery voice sounded _wrong_. It was sickeningly sweet on his senses. His instincts screamed for him to run, like there was danger involved in the words gliding off of her tongue.

“We only do it so you know your place.” Haru chimed in, her voice giving way to a seductively psychotic giggle.

“Your place is among us. You’re the leader, but you’re also the slave.” Yusuke added, but his voice was not his own. It didn’t sound like the artist at all. It had warped and words began to repeat, sounding off backwards like static background noise.

“Isn’t it fun? Being _used_ by everyone else?” Makoto cackled, and the ooze smothered him. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see, and couldn’t feel anything but the slimy, thick substance on his form. It covered his entire body and burned his skin. He tried to gasp but only breathed the fluid into his lungs, setting them even more ablaze than they already were. Akira was panicking, flailing around as the liquid burned and scorched and _flared_ -

A jolt of electricity shot through him like lightning, and he bolted awake from his half-dazed state. His heartbeat was racing and he felt like running half-way across Tokyo, anywhere that led him away from here. His eyes darted around and a few whimpers left his sore throat, relishing the light that filtered into the room. He tried his best to breathe, but the gag only caused him to choke. Sobs bounced off the tiled walls and rung into his ears. Akira closed his eyes tightly, searching for something- _anything_ -that would help him ease back into reality. There was nothing, of course. Akira’s lungs burned as he forced himself to breathe normally, his heartbeat loud in his ears. Eventually, his breathing evened out, and he collapsed back into the ceramic walls surrounding him.

It turns out that a broken mind without sleep equals nothing but torment in the end.

For hours it went on like that, the cycle of almost-asleep and the frustrating jolt of being awoken. His muscles screamed at him for relief, to be let out of the restraints and the cramped bathtub, but no matter what he tried to do they would only wail _louder_. His mind fell into a fog and would be forced out of it only briefly, during his vivid hallucinations and nightmares. He could see everyone-Sojiro, the thieves’, his parents, even the police officers from the interrogation room. Everyone had something to say, some small piece of his soul to crush even further than it already had been before. Akira began to fear being alone in the bathtub, silently wishing for someone to walk into the apartment and tear his mind away from the pain. At the same time, he just wished his body would give in and allow him to die. Same difference in the end, really. He wanted the pain in his mind to **_stop_**.

After so many hours, various attempts to sleep, and three or four different kinds of panic and anxiety later, the door to the apartment opened and closed with a small _click_. The familiar honey-brown locks of hair flitted into Akira’s blurry view, and he sighed, leaning his head back and closing his tired eyes once more. Footsteps echoed out into the hall and a soft murmur escaped Akechi’s lips when his feet stopped right outside the bathroom door. The younger boy could feel the gaze of the other, intruding deep within his soul. He wondered when the older boy would say anything-do anything. An eternity passed in his mind, before the bright light of the bathroom was turned on, blinding Akira for a few seconds. He blinked furiously, fresh tears streaming down his face as the brunette walked closer, roughly pulling the handkerchief down around the pale boy’s neck, seemingly relishing the sight of the broken, helpless teen below him.

“You’re alive. Someone fetch the kitty a toy…” He trailed off, one gloved finger running down the side of Akira’s face. It made him shiver at the touch; the roughness of the fabric did nothing to dissuade his senses from screaming at the sensation. Akira opened his mouth to retort, but found he was far too tired and his throat was swollen and sore, enough so he couldn’t say much of anything if he tried. A small part of him thought Akechi would love it if he did, though. The older boy merely dropped his hand to his side, fumbling around in his pocket before emerging with a small, silver key. The grooves were freshly-cut and it shone in the light with brand-new glimmer. He reached out to the handcuffs housing the ravenette’s raw and bruised wrists. As he uncuffed them, allowing the appendages to fall to his side, Akira noticed he couldn’t feel his fingers anymore. They still twitched when he thought to move them though. He slumped into the ceramic around him, before he felt those same gloved hands grasping at his shoulders.

“At least you’re too spent to try anything deadly. Gives me time to clean you up.” The soft hum and smile Akechi put on his face only bothered Akira a little. His own eyes were half-lidded, and his body felt lethargic; he had no energy in him to move, to even breathe. He was utterly helpless in the situation. If he had the energy, he was sure he would’ve flipped the older boy off, but even the thought didn’t satisfy him. Instead he simply slumped into his form as Akechi pulled him close, reaching out behind him for a few towels that were tucked under the wash basin, kicking the door closed with his foot before turning the spray of the shower on. Akira gasped at the touch of the water, but it was not like it had been earlier. It was lukewarm, just enough to not cause his body any more harm. Akechi tugged off his right-hand glove with his teeth, before reaching up and setting the warm flesh against the younger boy’s forehead. He grimaced, before taking the other glove off, still keeping Akira close to his chest.

“You’re burning up.” He said lightly, almost as if talking to himself. The water helped to cool him off, if only a little, as Akira finally noticed the temperature change. He had been shivering in the cold the whole day, so it was unsurprising he had really been with a fever. The graceful touch of fingers at his sides sent a gasp through his throat, as they lifted up the ebony night-shirt he had been wearing. More bruises had been hiding underneath, and looked far worse than they had felt earlier. A particularly nasty one was where he had been stabbed-no scar for anyone to be the wiser. It was large and circular; the color was a mix of teal with violet accents surrounding it. It ached to the touch and the smooth gliding of the water over the skin did only so little to tame the pain. His shirt was lifted over his head and tossed behind the brunette with a sloppy, wet _splat_. Akira rested his right hand on Akechi’s own, trying his best to look into his eyes.

“I can do this on my own.” His voice was the exact opposite of normal. It sounded like he had been gurgling nails the whole day, much like what Makoto’s voice had been like in one of the sequences. He mentally kicked himself but stared into those suspicious, dead-set eyes none the less.

“You can barely talk-much less _sit up_ on your own. I’ll be gentle, I promise.” The smile that spread across Akechi’s face was unique, to say the least. It wasn’t fake like so many of his smiles had been before, it looked real. But then there was the hint of playful, snarky attitude to it. There probably was, but Akira was not the best judge of character after the past day he had. Akechi simply pushed the younger boy back, so he was leaning against the tub more comfortably than he had been before. A small sigh escaped his lips when he felt the water shift and what felt like soap being run over his skin. He kept his eyes closed, partly because he was so exhausted, partly because it felt nice to have someone taking care of him. He wanted to latch onto the sensation and never let it go, cage it up inside of himself so he could keep it. He didn’t want this feeling to go away. _Ever._

Some time had passed before Akira felt the hands run down towards his jeans, and a strange nervous sensation filled his stomach. The thought of the men in the interrogation room flitted through his mind. He reached out, somehow grasping onto that hand a little harder than he intended, before opening his eyes and looking back towards Akechi, who was shooting him a questioning gaze. His own slate grey eyes were pleading, even though he hadn’t said anything yet. He wondered if Akechi would catch on or not.

“What’s wrong? Embarrassed?” He wasn’t in the slightest, considering he had been using the bath house across from Leblanc for more than half a year.

“Do you have to…?” The pleading had suffused into his voice, which wavered as he spoke.

“You need to be cleaned up, can’t drag you to bed looking like _this_.” Akechi’s eyes darted around, before returning back to the younger boy’s. They were dull and Akira noticed they encased a hint of sadness within them. _Why does he look like that…_ Akira could only grimace and nod his head, hand still grasping onto the brunette’s as he spoke.

“Go slow…please.” The grip faded, and Akira leaned his head back once more and closed his eyes. Akechi allowed a few seconds to pass before he started for the hem of the jeans again, this time moving as slow as Akira asked. He was open to suggestion, at least. That much was nice, considering the odd way he had acted earlier. The pale teen sucked in a shallow breath as he felt the button on the jeans being undone, zipper soon to follow. He held that breath and refused to allow his eyes to open as the hand gently pulled down on the fabric, easing the garment off of the sore and blemished skin. A heartbeat passed by. The rough fabric inched closer to his knees; another heartbeat, ringing out in his ears with a soft _thump_. Again the jeans were pulled down, past his ankles in a swift motion and with them the rest of the clothing he wore that day. It was a strange feeling-the rush of the water over his skin, the unease contracting in his chest, and the soft and gentle touch of Akechi’s hands on his skin. He felt out of place, but also comfortable. His mind clouded over with a dizzying fog and he could feel the blush arise on his cheeks, but was sure the older boy would attribute it to the fever.

“There. Wasn’t so bad, see?” The cheery voice lit up the room by itself, and Akira could’ve sworn he heard a chuckle being breathed out.

“…Y-Yeah…” It didn’t take long for Akira to realize he was speechless. What was there to say to such a thing? Especially when it came from _those_ lips. They could smile so elegantly and lie to you all the while your heart was being ripped from your chest, or a knife easing its way into your stomach. Lips like those were **_made_** for killing, it didn’t matter what.

“Good. It’ll only be a little while longer, and then off to bed you go.”Akechi made this sound so easy, taking care of someone he hated so much. Like it wasn’t only a day or two since he had tried to kill him, or that he had broken his mind beyond repair. Akira wanted to laugh at how pathetic he was, and also scream and claw those pretty scarlet eyes out of Akechi’s head. He was torn-he hated himself but knew it was Akechi who had gone and brought all those repressed feelings and desires out. Everything he had seen inside of his head was fruit born of his own fears; it was just Akechi who made him take the bite from the apple after all. He hadn’t even realized he had done so until it was too late. The shower continued on, Akechi making quick work of it and being careful not to cause too much pain in the process. Akira wondered why he didn’t allow himself to be rough-the younger teen was helpless to the older boy after all. It would be so _easy_ to hurt him. Hell, he was already hurt, in more ways than one. Time ticked by and soon, Akira felt a warm, fluffy towel being draped over his head. The cloth was jostled, gently drying off his hair and face. It moved to his arms, then chest, then elsewhere. Akira didn’t mind, but he also rather have done it himself. It was just another nail driven into his heart that he couldn’t even do _this_. A soft hum rung out into the room, like a lullaby drifting into his ears as the hands worked. It was soothing, something completely unheard of when it came to Akechi. Akira almost thought he were asleep if it weren’t for the dull ache in the back of his head, and the stinging pain still pulsating through his wrists.

Akechi gingerly wrapped the boy in front of him with the towel, before placing his hands underneath his legs and back, lifting him easily off of the ceramic. Akira tried his best to place his hands behind the older boy’s neck, clinging tightly onto the damp dress shirt on his frame. The foggy mirror only showed the clouded image of the teens standing, Akira’s dull eyes barely reflected as he stared into the painted glass. The soft _drip_ of water falling onto the metal drain were the only noises in the room and the older boy turned and with minor difficulty, opened the bathroom door and set out into the hallway of the apartment. It was dark; Akechi was navigating using memory alone as well as the light that still lit up the dining room. Akira could barely keep his eyes open to see much of anything anyways; he figured he would have plenty of time to do so later on. Footsteps shuffled and with them the brush of cold air hit Akira’s exposed skin, biting it and causing him to shiver. Akechi’s hold grew tighter, and if the ravenette knew better he would’ve said he was being _protective_. Laughable, really. Akira knew Akechi wouldn’t protect him unless there was something in it for the brunette.

What that would be, in this case, was a mystery.

Another door opened and soon Akira felt himself being lowered onto soft, comfortable sheets. It was the first time he had felt genuine relief the whole day. His aches and pains were soothed by the gentle cloth, and the older boy above him started rummaging through something in the dark. A small lamp turned on to the side of the bed, and Akira could vaguely make out a first aid kit upon the nightstand. The crimson eyes that focused on the ointment and gauze in his ungloved hands were filled with dying fire and determination. It made Akira wonder just why the fire had seemed so sated. So calming.

_Maybe I’m just over-thinking things…_

Those same eyes turned into his own slate ones, void of their normal flare and arrogance. When their gazes connected, Akira felt a jolt of unease. He normally felt so hostile towards Akechi, but now…

_I’m too tired for this…_

The teen laid back into the blankets as gentle hands grabbed at his right arm, a soothing gel spread across the wrist before a long stretch of white mesh was wrapped around the flesh. He allowed the same to happen to his left wrist as well. Akira was so exhausted, in pain and out of his mind to care. Sleep was a comfort he would relish while he had the chance. He didn’t even realize he was half-asleep when that same familiar voice called out to him.

“Swallow.” The command was more of a plea, really, when Akechi’s hand pushed two white pills into the crevice of Akira’s mouth. He complied, and as ragdoll-like as he could be, allowed Akechi to lift his head in order to tilt a bottle of water to his lips. He almost couldn’t tell if he swallowed the water or not. The teen made no sound as Akechi sighed, satisfied with the result and compliance of the younger boy.

“Get some rest. We’ve got a lot to talk about tomorrow.” He allowed his half-lidded eyes to roll towards Akechi. The warmth of blankets being pulled over his pale and frozen form were a blessing, and as soon as it came, Akira allowed himself to fade into the darkness.

________________________________________

 

The gentle late-morning sunlight that shone in threw the window caught Akira’s attention as he blinked sleepy tears from his eyes. He groaned, enjoying his sleep far more than he ever had before, turning onto his left side with a small mewl and burying himself into the warmth of the blankets again. Nuzzling into the cotton cloth, he sighed and tried to fade back into sleep. After a few minutes of dull, senseless in-between’s of sleep and consciousness, he felt the pain in his side spike from pressing into his elbow. The ache in his bones festered for a moment, and he sighed before forcing himself to sit up in the bed, looking around the bed cautiously before moving his free hand over to the ugly looking bruise on his skin. He ground his teeth together when the simple touch of his fingertips on the flesh caused even minor discomfort. He’d have to think of a way to get Akechi back for it somehow…

A breath was released into the air, and Akira noticed it hadn’t come from himself. He looked over to the other side of the nightstand and saw Akechi sitting in a comfortable looking chair, arms crossed but eyes closed in a somewhat peaceful sleep. Of course Akechi would have fallen asleep in the chair. The bed the ravenette was sitting in was probably the only one in the apartment. The brunette continued to breathe-soft, slow inhales and exhales that invoked calm into the younger boy.  He felt as if he could fall back asleep to the sound of that breathing, the way it made him forget he was not shackled in any way to the bed and could move freely if he wanted to. Akira could sneak out of the apartment if he felt like it. But as soon as the thought crossed his mind, he knew he had to get answers from Akechi before he could make any kind of judgment call like such. There were still questions he needed to ask. It annoyed Akira, and after letting out a small huff, he pulled the mass of blankets around himself better and cleared his throat, awaking Akechi and making sure to stare into the dark mahogany eyes that fluttered open, looking into his own steel ones with ease. Another sigh escaped the brunette’s lips as he straightened up in his chair, eyes never leaving the boy sitting on the bed. As deductive as always, he knew what was on the younger boy’s mind. Mutual tension filled the room as they continued to stare at one another, until Akira finally broke it by speaking into the stale air.

“What’s your goal here? Why go through all this?” The raven-haired teen held out his hand from the covers and gestured it around as to draw attention to the bandages around the wrist. The bruises on his skin stung as he did so, and he grimaced but continued to keep eye contact with Akechi.

“I would prefer you to be alive for the events to come, among other reasons. Too many things aren’t adding up-it seems it was a good idea to keep you around after all.” Vague as always, and with it the frustration in Akira’s chest grew tenfold.

“What’s that supposed to mean? First you want me dead, then you cast that psychotic shit on me, and next you decide it would play out better for you if I’m alive? Make up your goddamn mind!” Akira’s voice was ringing in his own ears. Emotions from everything he had gone through in the past forty-eight hours seeped into every word.

“I probably wouldn’t have if what I found yesterday had happened sooner. I could’ve used your abilities in the metaverse.” Akechi looked off to the side, hands gripping his crossed arms tightly.

“What did you even do yesterday? You looked like you were getting ready to kill someone…” Akira mused to himself. He had thought about it while the brunette was away for all those hours. When sleep did not greet him, his mind ran through events and happenings like a broken record. Akechi merely glanced back over to the ravenette and pursed his lips in a thin line.

“I was going after a lead on our conspiracy friends. I needed to know exactly how much they knew about my supposed disappearance, and what they were planning on doing to the Phantom Thieves. I do have to worry about you now, you know. That changes things in the long run for me.”

“I didn’t ask to be saved.” Akira’s glare was intense, blazing like fire from hell as he peered into the blood-like eyes before him.

“I didn’t save you; I’ve damned you for sure.” Akechi cast his own fire back into the teen, and he winced when the older boy smiled briefly.

“Like I wasn’t before? I’m still screwed in the end anyways, with or without your help. A kid with a criminal record doesn’t have many opportunities in life, especially when they’re the leader of the Phantom Thieves.” Akira turned his gaze away, curling the bedding around his frame tighter than before.

“You were a fighter before. A confident leader. You felt the hope pulsating through this rotten world and embraced it; I’ve shown you what it tastes like to lose that hope. And you fell into the despair fittingly-I wanted to see that look in your eyes when I killed you.”

“A look of despair? What would that bring other than your own twisted pleasure?”

“It would bring you off of that godforsaken pedestal everyone places you upon! You always, _always_ dodged the horrors and grief this world could bring with such grace and defiance it sickened me!” Akechi had stood up; shouting the words from his heart and the rage within his eyes rivaled only Akira’s own. The sudden outburst was reminiscent of what was said during their fight on Shido’s ship days earlier. “I wanted to see you brought down to my level. To see you writhe in pain and misery like I’ve done for so many years and accept the fact that hope is a lost cause! Results only come from the effort put in. You can’t expect a good outcome from wishing and praying and _hoping_ alone!”

“So you’ve broken me like others have broken you? So poetic-and pathetic at the same time.” Akira didn’t flinch when Akechi grasped onto the blankets, pulling the teen in close to face him dead on. An eerie tension filled the room that was only interrupted by the heavy breathing from Akechi and the defiant glare Akira gave the older boy. He didn’t break the glare as he continued on speaking.

“We could go on all day about your sick and twisted desires, but we’ve got more important things to talk about rather than why we hate each other. So continue on-What did you find out that was so important that it deems for you keep me alive?” Akechi’s rage dulled and his grip loosened on the blankets in his hands.

“A startling revelation; people are forgetting that we exist. More importantly, people are forgetting that the Phantom Thieves exist.” Akira’s eyes widened slightly. He knew there had been strange happenings of people not reacting to Shido’s confession at all, but the news about the Phantom Thieves had started dying altogether long before the Election Day came and went.

“You said ‘we’. Does that mean they don’t remember you going missing as well?”

“It appears so. Even some of the higher ups of the conspiracy that I know about don’t seem all that bothered by us anymore. It’s almost like you and your friends never stole Shido’s heart to begin with.” Akechi sat down once again, sighing frustratedly into the air. “They don’t even care that their rabid dog has fell off of the face of the earth.”

Akira stared at the older boy, allowing the words to replay through his head. If the populace has collectively agreed to ignore the efforts of the thieves and Akechi’s sudden disappearance, then does that mean a palace is involved? Akira knew that Mementos was the palace of the general public, but would it affect society on such a grand scale as to make them _forget_ about the injustice done upon themselves by the conspiracy’s hands? His head hurt and he felt a surge in the headache and raised his hand to his temple, sighing into the air when it pulsated along with his heartbeat. Of course things had to get more complicated before they got simpler.

“So you think Mementos is to cause, don’t you?” He murmured into the air, the sting of the words felt like venom on his tongue. Akechi nodded.

“I believe it has something to do with it. If we, as you and your merry band of thieves like to say, ‘steal the palace treasure’, then the populace would be more inclined to care. Even the conspiracy can’t fight against society as a whole when they realize the atrocities done to them.” Akechi tapped his foot against the floor in a set pace, before crossing his legs and placing a hand to his chin. Akira felt confused at the word ‘we’ once more.

“You say this as if I can help you. In case you forgot, you fried my brain so hard I can’t summon personas anymore. Not that I _would_ help after all you’ve done. And I severely doubt the Thieves would want to help you out. Hell, they might keel over and die themselves if they found out you were still _breathing_.” Akira turned his head down to the bedding once more, screwing his eyes shut and mulling over things inside of his head before asking the next question.

“Akechi…How did you even corner me like that? We were in the Velvet Room… And how exactly does this psychotic break you can induce on people work?” Akira still had no concrete answer as to why and how the brunette’s persona blended his memories and fears into one frosty horror shake and fed it to his mind. Akechi seemed to stop his deep thinking, looking up at Akira with slight hesitation before answering.

“You don’t remember? I shouldn’t be surprised; I did do a number on you beforehand. You are surprisingly more stubborn than you look.” Akechi rubbed the bridge of his nose as if to message a headache away, and Akira grinned at the realization he had given the more experienced persona user a hard time. He could practically hear Arsene’s laughter in his head before a pang of sorrow filled his heart. He still missed the feeling of that name upon his soul.

Akechi continued, “I was waiting for you in Mementos. Your team had gone inside for some request, some manager selling his girls in show business or something of the sort. You were all exiting and I got my chance when you told them to go on without you. I saw you head into the Velvet Room and cornered you in there. It was fairly easy-I managed to knock you out after a brief battle. Luckily for us the old man and the assistants were not there. I was surprised since that has not happened before…” Akechi went back to thinking deeply inside his head, and Akira only found himself with more questions to ask than answers to be given.

“Wait-How do you know about the Velvet Room in the first place? I figured you must be a wildcard user too but…You’ve seen them too? The twins and Igor?” Akira’s shock was only outdone by Akechi’s deadpan expression.

“Well of course, where else would I have gotten Robin Hood?” Akira felt more annoyed by his response and only felt the urge to slap him upside the head. It was no time for mild humor after all; things were getting far too complicated and serious for his liking.

_As if it wasn’t **already** before all of this nonsense…_

“What about the psychotic breaks? How do you twist someone’s mind _like that_?” Akira stared blankly towards the floor as he remembered some of the more horrific moments during the event. It pained him to remember the incident at all, but he was more afraid of what how one persona could induce such a thing onto a human without trouble at all. Akechi’s gaze grew dark, and he turned his head away before he started explaining.

“Loki is unique in that sense. He can just _do it_. I’m not entirely sure what happens myself. He seems to sort through emotions, memories, fears…He can toy with the subconscious mind and force scenarios into that person’s head. They usually break instantly, much like snapping a twig. That’s how I forced almost all of my victim’s shadows to go berserk.” He shifted in his chair, changing his position so the opposite leg sat over the other, “I had never used it on a human inside of the metaverse until myself, and even then, it was just ramping up my emotions and desires. Loki probably wouldn’t take kindly to being expelled from my mind.”

_Because of c o u r s e he wouldn’t._

“And what about me? You said it took some time to break my mind…” Akechi raised his head towards Akira, a grimace appearing when he realized the younger boy was curling up into himself as he remembered the faces of the people he saw, things that they did…

“You were out of it instantly. It may have taken a couple of minutes, but it still happened in the end. Loki doesn’t show me what happens inside of their mind while he does it, and he never does anything more than to hint at things afterward. I never really cared before, until yours that is.” Akira’s head shot up and through teary eyes he stared at the older boy. Akechi didn’t know what had gone through Akira’s mind. He didn’t know about his fears, the torture, or the interrogation.

Akira wasn’t sure whether he should be grateful or horrified.

He felt like it should be both, to say the least.

“So you don’t know if there’s a way to fix it? Is it permanent, the damage done?” Akira felt his heart rise to his throat. If there was any way at all to repair the damage done, then he would jump at the chance immediately. Unfortunately, Akechi just shook his head side to side. Akira wondered how fast he could jump off the bed and cross the gap between them in order to make good on his desire to strangle the boy in front of him.

“I’m not sure. I’ve never exactly had a victim survive unscathed, after all. Everyone who didn’t die is practically a vegetable now. I can only think of one explanation but…it’s farfetched.” Akira could only guess as to what explanation he had.

“Do you think I have a palace of my own now?” Even as the words rolled off of his tongue, they tasted bitter and stuck to the back of his throat. He thought he was going to be sick.

“It’s possible, but I’ve checked the meta-nav. Your name wasn’t found.” A wave of relief washed over Akira, flooding his senses as he sighed and collapsed inward on himself.

“Good. That’s good. I’d rather not have people running around my head…” He winced internally at the thought of his fellow thieves going anywhere near his mind. It was a disaster waiting to happen.

“It may be possible to get your persona back, I just do not have a concrete way of _how_.”

Akira basked in the silence for a minute, contemplating.

“So how exactly do I fit into this grand plan of yours? I don’t have a persona, I can’t fight in the metaverse as far as we know. The thieves aren’t an option, and you’re only so good at being a one-man army from hell. So what’s the plan?” Akira’s gaze lifted and focused back onto Akechi’s once more.

“Believe it or not, even though I despise your guts to my very core, you are easily the best leader and tactician that I know. You’re also one of the best liars known to man and can bullshit your way out of a tough situation if necessary. If I’m going to pull this off, I’ll begrudgingly need you by my side.” Akira smirked, albeit briefly, before straightening his back and taking a deep breath to clear the headache from his mind if only for a few moments.

“What’s in it for me? Why should I help you after everything you’ve done? Why shouldn’t I just go through with my death the first chance I get?” Akechi’s eyes flickered darkly before he straightened out, placing both feet onto the ground and leaning forward with his hands intertwined.

“Because I can offer you something you can’t ascertain for yourself at the moment.” Akira’s interest piqued, he raised an eyebrow and hardened his gaze into Akechi’s cheshire eyes.

“And what would that be?” He asked with an intrigued glare. Akechi smiled.

“ ** _Revenge_**.” The brunette’s eyes darkened and his mouth curled into a sinister smirk. Akira did not feel the immense heat or the murderous intent coming off Akechi in waves. He was too busy laughing into the air with a broken smile staining his lips. Honestly, the offer sounded sweeter than anything he had thought about in the mere days before. Revenge against the people who’ve wronged him. Akechi was probably included in that deal too. It was tempting, and he was already so broken. It would be so easy to accept the offer. Akira didn’t have a place to go or something better to do in the meantime anyway.

“Well, how could I refuse an offer like that? Before we begin though, there’s something I need you to do.”

“Oh? And what would that be?” Akira leaned back, loosening the blankets around him so that his shoulders were laid bare to the brunette.

“Do you mind fetching me some clothes? I’m afraid I’m still naked, and I’d rather not catch a cold.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So nothing particularly horrible happened so far, yet...anyway.
> 
> It was kind of hard to figure out music for this chapters since I worked on it sporadically to the Heaven's Night instrumental. I felt the jazzy eerie theme worked well for the dialogue and crazy madness that ensued. I also didn't plan on this being more than a drabble about psychotic events and what not, so there's that. But everything has been planned out I just need to beat my muses into submission.
> 
> Also did anyone else feel the sexual tension during the shower scene? That was intentional and also unintentional, considering there is no pairing for this fic. ~~okay I lied there's major pairing fuuuuck~~
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	3. Fade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In preparation for events to come, interesting things happen.
> 
> And then everything goes to hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No explicit warning this time folks. Just be sure to read the tags. Also- I added more so you're welcome.
> 
> It is **HIGHLY ADVISED** to read this chapter along to the music track listed. Right click to loop, if you need it. _It will set the mood_
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0zlPtpUZ8uQ&t=39s
> 
> As always thanks for reading!

“I guess it’ll have to do…”

Akira said to himself, rummaging through the plastic bag once more to make sure he had everything he needed and nothing had been left behind. The annoying jingle of the store he found himself in was piercing his ears and he felt the annoyance flow ever faster through his veins. The pounding sleet outside of the store windows breached the melody coming from the speakers, enough that Akira turned and stared at his reflection in the store window. The ebony hood covering his head only served to make him blend in more, unnoticed by the average bystander. Not that he thought it was a problem anyway--the only people he needed to hide from where the people who he presumed would actually look for him. But aside from helping him to hide, it also made his face look darker. More shadows covered up his tired, dull eyes. The bruise he had half-hidden by his hair was almost fully hidden by the side of the hood as it rested lightly on the right side of his face. Reaching up, he slowly pawed at the window, right where his mirror image was located. The teen’s mind started rewinding, thinking back to things that had happened earlier that day.

________________________________

Akechi had briefly crossed the room and tossed the plastic bag he grabbed onto the bed, right next to Akira’s frame. The younger boy glanced down and reached out, moving the dull material out of the way to see folded clothes with price-tags within. He raised his brow to the brunette.

“You planned for this?” He grasped at the soft, cotton-like material and pulled it towards him to inspect. Upon holding it out with both hands in front of him, he saw it was a long-sleeved, dark blue shirt. The neckline circled thinly around the fabric, and he could see another tag sticking out from underneath one of the cuffs. It actually looked to be in his size…

“Well of course. I thought it was only natural to grab a spare set of clothes. After all, this outcome was quite the surprise.” Akechi only glanced at him for a moment, a hand resting firmly on his hip as he gestured to the clothes inside of the bag. Akira had set aside the shirt and grasped at the next item: a pair of long, black jeans that were also in his size. The ravenette turned his stare at the older boy questioningly.

“Are you sure it wasn’t the _only_ surprise? It seems you like to toss more at me, one way or another.” Akechi only scoffed and walked closer to the bed, setting his free hand to rest upon the edge.

“I merely guessed based on my size. We are of a similar build, even if I am slightly taller than you.” Akira snapped his eyes back to the plastic bag, digging further to find a pair of socks, boxers, cheap black-and-white sneakers, and finally an onyx zip-up hoodie. _Thorough_ , Akira thought to himself. He briefly wondered where his original clothing had disappeared to.

“So what happened to what I was wearing?” A sigh emanated from the pale lips above him.

“I’ve taken the liberty of washing them. They’re still drying in the bathroom.” Akira nodded his head, shuffling around the blankets so his chest was exposed to the cold air of the room. The teen was just about to toss the fabric off of himself when he remembered Akechi was still standing at the end of the bed. He glanced back up at the brunette slyly.

“Do you mind?” A coy smile tugged at his lips. Akechi rolled his eyes and turned towards the bedroom door, turning his head over his shoulder before he left.

“I’d better not come back to find you dead or gone.” The door to the room was tugged closer to the frame, but not entirely closed. Akira raised his voice so he could be heard from down the hall.

“If I wanted to strangle myself with the sleeve of a shirt, I would have found a more expensive shirt to do it with!” The teen could practically _taste_ the annoyance in the air. He smiled, yanking on the paper tags until he heard the plastic tab _snap_. Without worry or care, he let the leftovers fall to the floor, before he stood and started getting dressed. He realized Akechi had a good eye for this kind of thing, since every article of clothing he slipped on fit perfectly. The sleeves of the shirt were a tad too long, however, so that they covered half of his hands. But it didn’t bother Akira. If anything, they helped covered the bandages on his wrists better. Once he was fully dressed and no longer felt the cold of the air biting his body, he sat back down on the bed in a cross-legged position, waiting for the brunette to return.

It didn’t surprise him when, only moments later, Akechi walked in. He was timely like that. The older boy gave Akira a once-over, resting his right hand finger onto his chin before letting out a pleased hum.

“I thought those would suit you well.” Akira fiddled with the hoodie before slipping it on, and pulling the hood over his head with a silent pout.

“Well I fit the bill of a delinquent now, don’t I? Or a runaway; your choice.” Akechi didn’t laugh at the joke, but muffled a small ‘mhm’ into the air. Akira grasped at one of the strings to the hood and twirled it around his fingers. He paused when a thought crossed his mind.

“So, what happened to the others? The thieves? Do they think I’m dead or missing?” Silence filled the room as Akechi paused, averting his eyes towards the window next to the bed. He let a small sigh escape his lips.

“When I finally dragged you out of the metaverse, they were long gone. It’s been roughly a day and a half since then. It could be both for all we know.” Akira groaned, grabbing the pillow on the bed and stuffing it into his face to muffle the sound. They would be out looking for him if that was the case. He knew they weren’t stupid; at least stupid enough to think he simply died in the metaverse. They would surely be searching for him in the real world too. That only made things more risky for him to leave the apartment. But then again, he wasn’t wearing what they had seen him in last-the light cyan hoodie with his black winter coat. They wouldn’t be looking for him in his current clothes. The thought seemed to ease his mind a little, until he practically darted off of the bed, ignoring the sharp pain in his side and the tossed pillow to the floor in the process.

“What about my phone? Is it here? Did you bring it with?” The words were flying out of his mouth so fast Akechi almost couldn’t keep up with them. The brunette smoothed a handful of bangs behind his ear before answering.

“About that…I was going to leave it behind but then I saw the sorry state it was in. I figured it would be harmless now.” The older boy started walking down the hallway, motioning for Akira to follow. He complied, continuing to fiddle with the string of his hoodie.

The entire apartment was quite small, and the standard white paint coated the walls. Nothing of personal value hung on the walls, or sat upon the table in the dining room. It felt empty as Akira walked down the wood floored hallway and barely heard the sound of his shoes on the floor. To the right at the end of the hall was the door to the bathroom, which had been recently cleaned and he peeked in to see his former clothing on hangars on the metal bar that held the shower curtain. His wrists ached when his eyes landed on the silver handlebar to the far wall. The ravenette huffed and turned toward the dining room, which also doubled as the living area. A standard brown table sat in front of him and nothing was upon it aside from Akechi’s briefcase he never seemed to go anywhere without. It was, however, devoid of the logo ‘A’ that it once housed . _Clever_ , the teen thought to himself. There were a couple of chairs around the table and as he turned towards the kitchen at the far right, he saw Akechi standing in front of the small counter. Akira walked up to the older boy and stopped when he saw what he was staring at. His phone lay on the counter, screen cracked and devoid of life. His wallet lay on next to it, and he quickly checked to make sure everything kept within was still there before he pocketed it. The phone, however…

“How did it break?” he kept his voice monotone, not even looking Akechi in the eye as he grasped the phone, flipping it over to see the cracks had reached the back plastic. There was no way this phone was going to be saved.

“I believe it happened during our initial fight. But it could be from when I was holding you down…It’s hard to tell. All I know is that I found it like that when going through your coat pockets.” Akechi turned and leaned against the counter, crossing his arms as he watched the younger boy sigh and place the phone into his pocket.

“The only good thing that came from it being broken is that _she_ can’t track us now.” Akira relished the look the so-called detective made when his eyebrows arched and his eyes opened slightly wider.

“What do you mean? Sakura-san wouldn’t-“Akira cut him off before he could even **try** being half as good at his former profession.

“Futaba’s had a tracker and a bug on this phone for only god knows how long. She did the same thing to yours; interrogation room, remember?” The word felt sour on his tongue but he breathed it out anyway, clawing down the emotions it evoked and effectively muffled them with a silent gulp. Akechi only slotted his eyes for a moment, before nodding.

“That makes sense. She is good at these kinds of things. And also why I got rid of my old phone.” Akira walked over to the table and leaned against it, making sure to have a full-body view of the brunette. He thought it over in his head—things they needed to do before heading for Mementos. They needed information on what the other thieves were doing. Were they in Mementos now, searching for him? Or would they be out in the real world? He had an idea for them, but it was going to have to wait for now. He pawed at the phone in his pocket for a second. That was going to be a problem as well. And then there was the matter of Akechi. He couldn’t move around in public without some kind of disguise, considering their situation. Then there was the matter of materials like weapons and healing items. He knew Akechi must have a plentiful amount stashed somewhere, but Akira did not. At least, not on him anyway. Everything he kept for Mementos was in his room at Leblanc or a part of what he could keep in the metaverse with its mind-bending logic. But now that he was devoid of his persona, he wondered exactly what happened to those items…Oh well, he would find out soon enough. Akira made a mental note and then cleared his throat, staring down Akechi with cold, calculating eyes. The brunette caught on, focusing intently on the younger boy in front of him.

“First things first; I can’t do much without a phone. We need to be able to keep in contact when we’re out in public.” Akechi nodded, and motioned for the teen to continue.

“Second; we need to do something about your appearance.” Akira pushed off of the table, walking towards Akechi with dead-set eyes and placing his hands beside him on the counter, trapping him. He gave him a firm once-over, taking in every detail of the older boy. He looked relatively the same as usual, despite the bags under his eyes and the difference in clothing. Akira rested his gaze on his face, making sure to keep eye contact and secretly relish the uncomfortable vibe Akechi was giving off.

“What about it?” The brunette asked, trying hard to not shove the younger boy back. Akira smiled.

“You need to change it. Dye your hair, wear contacts, and/or change up your pleasant demeanor. I don’t care.” Akira chuckled as the older boy drew back within himself a little more with each suggestion. The look Akechi was giving him only made the adrenaline pump faster through his veins. He enjoyed it-making the brunette squirm under his gaze. He leaned in and whispered into the detective's ear.

“Something to make you look like literally _anyone_ else but yourself.” Akira pushed off of the counter, retreating back towards the table and smirking as the brunette raised his hand up to the side of his face, trying to brush away the feeling of contact he left behind.

“I’ll think of something. Next.” Akechi practically glared back at the ebony curls hiding underneath the hood. Akira flipped the object he acquired from the brunette around in his pocket, thinking back to the other thieves.

“I have a plan on how we can distract them. The others, I mean.” He kept his gaze cold as he thought it through inside of his head. “I have a person who can tail them. Distract them for a while. Keep them away from Mementos at least.” Akechi perked up at the suggestion, lowering his hands to his sides and nodding in agreement. Akira pulled out the object from his pocket, flipping it open and grabbing the cash that was inside. Akechi gaped at the sight of his wallet in the younger boy’s hands. He ducked his hands around to his own pockets where it once sat--of course, it was gone. Akira’s smirk grew wider.

“You owe me a new phone after all.” In the motion of handing the wallet back to the older, annoyed boy, he grasped his wrist instead and pulled him closer. He made sure his eyes never broke the contact of the scarlet ones before him. The tension in the room lifted a level, and as Akechi stared back menacingly, Akira hardened his gaze.

“If I do this, help you out…You will get revenge for me?” He could feel the heat rising between them, and those scarlet eyes flared brightly for a moment. Akechi, nodded, his small smile full of dark intentions.

“I made a deal with you. You help me infiltrate the depths of that dark, twisted world. And I will help you get revenge. It doesn’t matter who it is, myself included. After all of this is over with anyway, there’s nothing left for me to do.” Akira could practically taste the blood in the air as he thought of the men in the interrogation room once more. He wanted them _dead_ , but it would settle well for him if they were still alive in the end. At the very least, they must have shadows in Mementos. Akira knew Akechi would deal with them swiftly. And everyone else…

Everyone else he would deal with later.

“Good.  Because I’m not sure Mementos will be around once we steal the public’s heart. I’d like for you to take care of my end of the deal first, if you don’t mind.” Akira let go of the older boy, shoving the wallet into his hands as he did so. Akechi pocketed it and nodded briefly. From what Morgana had said before, if palaces and Mementos were connected so deeply…then that must mean the whole of the metaverse was connected to it. The brunette must have figured as much as well.

“That can be arranged. It is strange though, the thought of the metaverse disappearing when we do this.”

“Would you rather still have it open and available for the conspiracy asshat’s to find a new rabid dog to do their bidding?” The fire in Akechi’s eyes flared for a moment.

“No. “Akira smirked once more, pushing off of the table for the final time.

“Good. Then that takes care of one thing.” Akira headed over to the front door, which was chained shut. He moved the small silver metal out of the way before he felt a hand on his shoulder. He nearly jumped out of his skin before he turned back towards Akechi.

“What is it?”

“Who says you’re going anywhere _alone_? There’s a reason I left you here handcuffed to my bathtub.” Akira rolled his eyes, annoyed.

“Don’t worry _mom_ , I won’t slit my wrists just yet. Or throw myself onto the subway tracks.” He continued to unbolt the door and went to open it just for Akechi’s hand to circle around him and press against the door, shutting it. Akira turned around fully to better face the older boy.

“That’s only part of it. You know what I’m talking about.” Akechi’s gaze still burnt into Akira’s own, and he felt a grimace flush over his face as he stared down the brunette.

“And what would that be?” The tension rose back to dangerous levels as the two stared at each other, stubborn fire lit in each other’s eyes.

“I can’t have you having a panic attack or something like it in the middle of public, _alone_ , just to get arrested or caught.” Akira thought about punching the older boy, but knew it wouldn’t help the situation. How did the brunette even know about the panic attacks? He’d only been slightly crazy for a day and a half now anyways.

_I wouldn’t be having them if it wasn’t for your damn meddling **into my mind-**_

“I won’t. Trust me.” Akira smirked and turned away from the boy, back to the door before opening it a little too harshly.”Just make sure to take care of your appearance while I’m gone.”

He was halfway out of the door when he heard the growl that left Akechi’s lips.

“What makes you think you won’t have one?” Akira turned so fast he didn’t even realize he had done so himself, and glared daggers into Akechi’s crimson eyes.

“Because I only have them when I’m alone.” And with that, the ravenette was already walking down the hall towards the elevator. He smashed the call button and paused, before turning his head back down the corridor. “Make sure to meet me at Shinjuku, will you?” And before the brunette had a chance to respond, Akira was already in the elevator, descending down toward the lobby floor.

_________________________________________

And there he was, starring into his reflection in the phone shop’s window. He had to go out of his way in order to buy a phone, avoiding Central Street like the plague. It only made sense since most of the places he frequented were there. And of course, the thieves would be looking for him everywhere he usually went. So he opted to take a peek in a back alley phone store and got exactly what he needed without the fuss. He’d also forced himself to eat something he bought at a convenience store near Akechi’s apartment. Akira found he was in no mindset of properly taking care of himself. So ‘forced’ would have to do for now. He was brought back to reality by the sound of the sleet outside growing louder, and he pulled his hand back into his pocket, turning away from the window and exiting the store in a hurry. The teen knew it was going to be particularly annoying to walk through the half-frozen rain and decided to hang out around the store’s awning and figure out what he was going to do next.

It was around four or five in the afternoon-much later than he thought it would be when he left Akechi’s apartment. It turns out he slept longer than he anticipated. It would be time for him to meet up with his contact soon, and he fiddled around with the new phone the cashier had set him up with before remembering to put in the numbers of people he needed to call. He sent a quick text to his contact letting her know he was on his way to meet her, and one to Akechi to let him know about the new number, before he huffed and stepped out into the rain. It pelted his hoodie and he shivered, pulling the hood further over his head as he walked down the street.

He somehow managed to lay low on the subway floor, making sure he didn’t seem too suspicious and out of place as he quickly boarded the Shinjuku train and allowed himself to breathe an easy sigh into the air when he saw the train was nowhere near full and there was a seat for him to sit in. Akira hadn’t been spotted. Yet. He allowed his tired eyes to flutter closed for a minute before the subway car jerked suddenly, removing the possibility of a quick nap with a single motion. Akira sighed and pondered what Akechi had done in his absence. It had only been a few hours since he had left the apartment in search of a new phone. What did he look like now? Was it something drastically different, or something more subtle and reserved? Akira would find out soon enough, he thought, and when the overhead speaker told him he’d arrived at his destination, he left the train along with the other strangers in a slow and sluggish walk. His feet brought him from the station and to the same bar he always went to for Ohya’s services. He almost missed the vibration from his phone when he placed his hand on the handle to the door, ready to walk in. Sighing, he pulled the phone from his pocket and re-read the message once more. It was Ohya, of course.

**Could you meet me somewhere different this time? It’s not far from the bar! ;)**

_I shouldn’t be surprised…_ he thought briefly, typing away at his phone before sending his reply.

**Sure. Where to?**

He nearly choked on his own tongue when she replied back.

**It’s the karaoke place down the street. See you when you get here!**

_And you’ve got me…_ Akira did not know Ohya was the kind of person to be into such a thing. Karaoke? He entertained the idea that she was there on business, but when he stopped in front of the bright neon signs that also said alcohol was served within, he allowed the thought to die. She was celebrating something, surely. He made sure to check back around the crowd to see if Akechi had shown up, and sure enough, he spotted the familiar brunette walking towards him with an umbrella opened above his head. What he didn’t expect though, was everything else.

Akechi had decided on keeping his original hair color, albeit the left side of his hair was pulled up into a black clasp, folding the hair and making the ends curl upwards on his head. The right side of his face was covered in bangs, and he noticed the hair had been cut shorter in the back, making his face pop out just a little more. His right eye was hidden behind the slightly curly strands of hair, and his left eye was the only one starring back into Akira’s own. His outfit changed accordingly; he was wearing a white dress shirt with a charming black vest over the top of it. It fit his form without being too tight, and he wore a matching pair of black slacks and shoes to go with it. Akira could only stare as the brunette flicked his head to one side, moving the bangs just slightly enough so he could gaze with both into Akira’s steel grey ones. The ravenette was speechless. He looked _good._

“How’s this?” Akechi asked, clearly enjoying the moment when he managed to make the famed leader of the Phantom Thieves shut his mouth for once. It only made the younger boy’s face flush with embarrassment.

“You look like a barista.” Akira finally managed to breathe out, turning away from the older boy and towards the door. “It’s nice. Nobody would be the wiser.”

Akechi flushed red for a second, before tucking a stray hair behind his left ear. “Thank you.”

“Our business is in here. Just keep quiet and let me do the talking.” Akira opened the door, finally, and allowed the older boy in first. Once he shut the door behind him, he regretted coming in.

The karaoke bar was loud, and bright. Neon light strips adorned the walls and someone singing a crappy cover of a song rang in his ears with the intent of pissing him off. The dark red and black walls of the bar resonated with him in a way that he would have enjoyed coming here, if not for the ridiculous green, pink, and purple neon lights flashing around. Jade green booth seats sat in the corner of his vision, and he could already smell the alcohol pregnant in the air. Akechi was also visibly displeased as well, and once they rounded the corner into the main room they both gaped at the person standing behind the microphone. It was Ohya, singing some crappy American pop song at the top of her drunken lungs and laughing horrendously when she messed up and failed a lyric or two. Akechi was more surprised at how bad she was at this. Akira couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw the woman _not_ sitting at the bar. The crowd of people sitting at the chairs in front of him booed slightly, trying desperately to drown out her horrible singing with more booze. Finally, the song ended, and Akira dreaded it when he saw her eyes land on him with a sly smile.

_Shit…_

“ _AKIRRAAAA!”_ The brunette practically screamed at the top of her lungs, jogging over before wrapping her arms around the startled boy and squeezing him as tightly as she could. He rasped out a muffled hello and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Akechi smirk.

“Nice outfit, kid! The change looks good on you.” He repressed a sigh and only darted his eyes towards Akechi, who was looking at him, pleased. Ohya threw him a sideways glance.

“Is this a friend of yours?” Akira laughed.

“Sure. You could say that.” Ohya took his sarcasm with little interest and went back to the matter at hand.

“What’s my favorite informant got for me today?” Ohya asked, pulling back and hiccuping once before giggles flew out of her mouth. Akira was almost afraid to ask, but saw the expecting look on her face and sighed.

“I need you to do something for me. It’s...different than things I’ve asked before.” He raised his hand to the back of his neck, rubbing at it awkwardly. Ohya nodded and sat down at the bar, motioning for Akira and Akechi to follow. The scarlet eyed boy only looked at him questioningly.

“Spill.” She stated, motioning for the bartender to fill up her drink. Akira felt his eye twitch but he placed his hands on the counter anyway, hoping she was not too drunk to forget it and not too sober to question it.

“I need you to tail someone. Distract them. Be a good journalist and annoy the hell out of them.” He waved his hand as to tell the bartender he didn’t want anything, and saw Akechi do the same. Ohya took a swig of her drink, staring down into it before turning her gaze onto Akira.

“And who am I tailing, exactly?” Akira sighed inwardly before making eye contact.

“Some girls at my school are getting a little too stalker-like for my tastes. There’s this one girl in particular, Makoto-“,Akira saw Akechi bristle at the mention of the name,“-I need you to keep her distracted for the next couple of days. Find out what she knows, etcetera. I can’t exactly do this on my own, or it would already be done. And I need you to make sure you don’t know me or anything like that.” Akira kept her gaze as Ohya began to think about the job. She took another swig of her drink and after a minute, replied.

“Alright. I can do that, as long as you do a little something for me in return.” Akira breathed a sigh of relief but then caught himself as she finished her sentence. Akechi continued to stare, motioning for the bartender to bring him a soda.

“What would that be?” Akira had a bad feeling about this. The brunette in front of him smiled the widest, cheeky grin she could have made and looked into his eyes mischievously.

“Sing a song for me, will you?” Akira could practically hear the walls around him crashing down. Akechi choked on his drink and started coughing frantically, clutching at his shirt and trying hard not to laugh.

“You’re joking.”

“Come on Aki-kun, you know you wanna!”

Akira couldn’t believe his ears when he heard the words that spilled out of her mouth in a twisted fusion of humor and sass. They repeated in his head, bouncing off of the jumbled thoughts and internal groans that _of course_ she wanted this to happen. _Today_. The one day that had already been a mess of complicated bullshit already. Akechi was stifling back another laugh and the hand he had wrapped around his soda was indenting the can lightly. He could feel a groan escape his lips. He did _not_ want to sing a song in front of _people_ who were drunk at a karaoke bar. And he especially didn’t want to sing one with Ohya and Akechi present. How could this get any worse?

“And I want it to be good, too! You can’t fake one on me; you gotta sing it like you mean it!” Ohya started giggling once more, and Akira let his head fall to the counter.

_Fuck._

He knew there was only one way out of this, and that was to brave through it and do as she asked. It was the only way she was going to keep the thieves off of his back. The only bad thing about it, really, is that Akechi would be here to witness it.

_Fuckfuckfuckfuck-_

“Fine. I’ll do it. But only **_one_** song. Got it?” Ohya nodded her head eagerly, and Akechi’s smirk grew wider. He resisted the urge to slap it off of his face. Akira watched as Ohya stumbled off of her bar stool and dragged him by his aching wrist over to the machine by the side of the stage, flipping through songs left and right and making sure Akira only had a small chance to see them.

“No, not this one. Hmm...Maybe-Oh I got one!” She mumbled to herself, chuckling as Akechi slowly made his way up behind her, still smirking as he drank his soda.

“Who said you got to pick the song? You know I can’t sing it if I don’t know it.” Akira rolled his eyes once more, glancing down at the list when he spotted a song that caught his attention. It was an American song he’d heard before, plenty of times actually. Ohya followed his gaze and grinned wide.

“You wanna sing that one? It’s a good pick, kid!” She clapped her hands together and jittered around with a gaudy demeanor. Akechi pushed past the woman with mild interest, looking down at the name of the song she was still pointing to.

“I’ve never heard this one before.” He stated, taking another sip of his soda.

“That’s because you don’t listen to music, _Goro_.” Akira made sure to put emphasis on his first name. He hadn’t exactly thought about what to call each other in public, but Akechi’s first name would sound far better in this situation than his last. Ohya wouldn’t recognize it quickly, anyways. The older boy glared at him and he could feel the friction rise between them. The soda can made a small _pop_ and he saw the fingers gripping the metal a little too tight.

“Well by all means; sing it _Aki-kun_ ” Akechi’s smirk was filled with malice and sadistic pleasure.

Akira was going to make sure to wipe it off of his face one day. Damn Ohya for giving him ideas…

He clicked the name of the song and inserted the coins in order for it to play. He allowed the microphone to be handed to him by an eager and outright-cheeky Ohya, who then proceeded to push him onto the stage.

Akira was not one for crowds, but that changed when the focus of the bar was turned towards him. He could feel twenty different pairs of eyes staring at him and he gulped, looking back down at Ohya who was still smiling and offering two thumbs up. Akechi stood off to the side grinning, arms crossed over his chest and the soda discarded.

_You asked for this._

Akira moved over to the microphone stand as the music started to play, setting the microphone onto it and planting his feet at its base. He looked down at the board that repeated the lyrics, but looked back up towards the crowd once he heard the first few strums of the guitar. He took a deep breath and as soon as Akechi and Ohya moved to center-front, he stared down at Akechi with a look that would make most people back away or swoon. He did neither, and that was perfectly fine by Akira. He placed both hands on the microphone and began to sing.

“Say my name, and his, in the same breath-I dare you to say they _taste_ the _same,_ ” Ohya grinned even wider, practically jumping up into the air as he started the song. Akechi looked on in a mix of horror and awe. Akira continued on, smirking.

“Let the leaves fall off in the summer, and let December glow in flames,” The crowd slowly began to zone in on the person standing up at the microphone, many of whom were already cheering. Nobody, however, was booing him off. _Thank god for that_ ¸ he thought internally. He was still reeling from Akechi’s awe-struck expression.

“Brace myself and let go; Start it over again, in Mexico—these friends, they don’t love you! They just love the hotel suites, now!” The crowd slowly began to cheer, one by one, as all focus landed on Akira. It wasn’t a bad feeling. It felt…good.

“I. Don’t. Care what you think, as long as it’s about me. The best of us, can find happiness in misery~” He trailed off the last word, staring Akechi directly in the eye. He was still gaping up at the teen, jaw dropped. It felt amazing on Akira’s skin. He had the sole undivided attention of the karaoke bar.

“Said, I. Don’t. Care what you think, as long as it’s about me. The best of us, can find happiness in misery~” He timed his singing up perfectly with the backing vocals they left in the track without even looking down at the screen. He had started to move, tilting the stand in front of him back and forth and allowing one of his hands to leave the microphone and gesture to the crowd.

“Take a chance! Let your body get a tolerance-I’m not a chance, but a heat wave in your pants” Akira paused, turning his head to the side for effect.

“Pull a breath like another cigarette, Palms up, I’m trading ‘em.” He cooed into the microphone and found he had taken it off of the stand, casually wrapping his left hand fingers around the cord attached to it.

“I’m the oracle in my chest~ Let the guitar scream like a fascist-Sweat it out! Shut your mouth, free love on the streets but- In the alley it ain’t that cheap now!” Akira started gesturing more often, mostly whatever he felt was right. The crowd was cheering louder than before and Ohya was still pumping her fists up in the air. He never even noticed she had taken her phone out and started recording it. Akechi still stood awestruck like a puppy in the very front of the crowd. His eyes never left the ravenette in front of him. Akira never wanted his gaze to leave, either.

“I. Don’t. Care what you think, as long as it’s about me. The best of us, can find happiness in misery~ Said I. Don’t. Care what you think, as long as it’s about me. The best of us, can find happiness in misery~” The crowd began to chant along with him, even going so far as to provide the backing vocals that the song would have done for him. He’d never had this much fun signing a song before-that was for sure. He kept his gaze fluctuating; once over the crowd, once to Ohya, and then back to Akechi. Like a broken record. His smirk grew wider across his face when Akechi’s eyes made contact with his own.

“Said, I don’t care just what you think-as long as it’s about me~” He moved closer to the stand, placing the microphone back upon it and leaning in close , gaze never moving from Akechi’s own.

“Said, I don’t care just what you think-as long as it’s about me~ Said I. Don’t. Care.” The crowd began to repeat the backing vocals once more, Ohya included.

“Said I don’t care!” The song reverberated throughout the crowd.

“Said I” “Don’t.” “Care.”

“Said I. Don’t. Care.~”As the tempo increased, he could see Akechi tapping his foot on the floor. A smile started to spread across his lips.

“I don’t care!”

“Said I. Don’t. Care.~”And as everything came to a sudden climax, Akira let loose.

“I. Don’t. Care what you think, as long as it’s about me. The best of us, can find happiness in misery~ I. Don’t. Care what you think, as long as it’s about me. The best of us, can find happiness in misery~” And with the song finished, more cheers and haughty coos for an encore reverberated throughout the room. Akira found it hard to breathe and was left gasping for air, making sure to put the microphone back in its spot before hopping off of the stage and right in front of a genuinely happy Akechi. He smiled back at the older boy; for once not feeling like the world had begun to fall down. And then, Ohya grabbed him from behind in a wide hug.

“That was _amazing_! I didn’t know you could sing so well! I should have found out about this sooner so I could milk you for it.” A devilish grin spread wide across her face. Akira just hoped she would be too drunk in the morning remember.

“You did great, Akira.” Akechi pushed back another strand of hair, still grinning. Many of the people in the crowd asked him for another song, but he turned them down politely and latched his hand onto Akechi’s when the crowd threatened to tear them apart.

“A deal’s a deal. You’ll see to my problem, right?” He had to practically yell over the crowd’s chitchat to Ohya. She nodded and pulled him towards the exit.

“You got it kid! First thing on my list tomorrow. Send me the info later. Now go home before someone get's cocky!” And with that, Akira and Akechi were promptly shoved outside of the karaoke bar. It was still raining a good bit, and Akira had to lean against the brick wall under the awning in order to catch his breath. He could feel the adrenaline die down and the buzz from all the excitement fade away. It was calming, but it also meant that reality had set back in.

“Are you okay?” Akechi’s voice rung out into the rain, and Akira snapped his eyes into focus on the brunette. He looked worried, an expression Akechi rarely wore.

“Yeah. It’s just these past couple of days…so much has happened.” Akira couldn’t help but stare at the ground. He pushed off of the wall and began to walk into the rain, towards the station. He relished the cold that pelted his face before Akechi walked up beside him with the umbrella. He smiled crookedly.

“So what now?” Akechi asked, slowing his walk to match Akira’s, which stopped completely at the suggestion.

“It’s nighttime. They wouldn’t be in Mementos this late…We could go there for a bit. Or we could turn in for the night.” Akira tried his best to look past Akechi and towards the station but found his eyes would always focus back onto the brunette. Akechi paused, allowing a few seconds to pass before speaking.

“Why don’t you go home? To your friends, your family…” Akira stopped breathing. The look in Akechi’s eyes said it all; why are you staying with _me_? The ravenette clenched his fists tightly, stepping away from the umbrella and out into the rain without a thought.

“Maybe I don’t want to go back.” He muttered under his breath, averting his eyes down to the ground. Akechi stood there for a second, running what he’d just heard through his head. Akira could practically see him pressing replay in his mind.

“Why wouldn’t you want to be with them? You gush about them like you would some proud father. And they adore you for it-“

“Drop it Akechi. It would just make things more complicated than they already are if I went back now!” he felt the tone of his voice change midway through, going from a plea to a command. Akira was trembling. How could he say that? Go back to the people he couldn’t bear to look in the eye without his own fears filling his mind. He could still see the way they were warped and covered in blood, mocking him from the shadows. What if he was right? What if they did hate him. How would he respond? Cope? At least with Akechi he knew what was coming. He knew he would be betrayed somehow.

At least this way he wouldn’t feel the pain associated with betrayal.

“Akira…” Akechi didn’t even notice his own mistake, walking closer with the umbrella.

“If I go back now there will be too many questions! They’ll want to know what happened, where I’ve been…if we wait until after the heist it would be better.” Akira calmed himself down, convincing himself that it sounded like a genuine concern. Akechi closed the gap between them and sighed. Akira felt like his walls were being torn down again. He knew that the brunette wasn’t buying it all the way.

“Fine then. We can go to Mementos if you’re up to it. We need to know how bad the extent of the psychotic break is.” Akira almost leaped for joy when Akechi dropped the matter. Even if it was just for now, he welcomed it. Looking back up into the scarlet eyes before him, there was a glint of sadness. But also inside of those same eyes, there was a glint of happiness. Akira blinked, and it was gone. He looked behind Akechi and gasped, pulling on the vest in front of himself and dragging the older boy to the side of a building.

“What is it?”

“Kiss me.” Akira’s eyes darted back to Akechi’s, full of calm determination. Akechi merely stared.

“Excuse me?”The exasperated way Akechi said the words made Akira sigh.

“It’ll look better that way. Just do it.” And with that, Akechi leaned in for the kiss. Akira felt the softness and warmth of the older boy’s lips as they pressed against his, half-meaningfully as to make any onlooker not question the movement. He grasped tighter onto the fabric in his hands, keeping his gaze on Akechi before closing his eyes momentarily, to make it even more real. A small part of him wished it was exactly that; real. As soon as it came, it was gone, and the ravenette opened his eyes and looked past Akechi’s shoulder. The blonde he had spotted was gone.

“Did it work?” Akechi asked, leaning back from the younger boy. Akira nodded.

“He didn’t spot us. We’re good.”

“Who was it?” Akira pushed himself off of the wall, flattening the crease marks his hands left in the fabric of Akechi’s vest.

“Ryuji.” Akechi blinked, nodded once, and the proceeded to tilt his head to the side.

“So, out of all things…why a kiss?” Akira turned his gaze back to Akechi after double-checking the small crowd on the street.

“Because Ryuji’s not a fan of remembering he’s single.” Akechi laughed, actually _laughed_. Akira smiled himself before turning back towards the station.

“Come on, let’s go. We’ve got a mystery to solve.”

_________________________________________

As the two teens stepped off of the Shinjuku train line and made their way to the front of Shibuya station two things crossed their mind. The first was, of course, would the thieves be in Mementos at this hour? And second would be what the hell waited for them on the other side of the meta-nav. Neither wanted to find out the latter. But they had to see, to make sure. Akira needed to know if it was even possible to get his personae back. So there they stood, side by side, at the front of the train station. They both looked around to make sure they hadn’t been followed or spotted. Once they knew they were in the clear, Akira gave Akechi the ‘okay’ to proceed. They found a spot away from everyone else and entered the meta-nav, making sure to blend into the background as they traveled into Mementos.

After the familiar daze of being thrown into another reality, Akira stepped away from the walls of the station and looked around. Nobody was there, save for the brunette in his jester outfit. He found it actually looked better on him than the prince outfit did. Looking down Akira saw he was still wearing his hoodie and jeans, not his metaverse garb. It was to be expected. The teen remembered the way the material had rotted away around him when he had been in the Velvet Room. It sent a shiver down his spine.

“Well, it’s not like I expected much.” Akira muttered under his breath, looking back towards Akechi.

“I assume if you do not have a palace, your shadow must be here somewhere.” The brunette pocketed his phone, turning towards Akira with a sigh. “I only envy that the cat could turn into a bus, crazy as it may be.”

“It will be a pain in the ass to trek all the way through here. But we have the stamina for it, at the very least.” Akira stretched his arms upwards, before descending the stairs with Akechi in tow. They reached the bottom and both looked toward the Velvet Room door. Akira shuddered.

“Well it’s still here at least…” Akechi tilted his head towards the younger boy.

“Any reason for it to not be here?” Akira thought for a second, contemplating.

“We did intrude in their space to have our horror show. That might not sit well with them.” Akira could only imagine Caroline’s words as she berated him. He flinched as he thought back to his sequence with the twins. Without realizing it, he had started rubbing at his right hand. Then something dawned on him; Justine was not outside of the door. Nobody was waiting for them there.

“Akechi, isn’t there usually a twin that waits outside of the door for when we need to use it?” Akechi paused and nodded his head.

“Yes, that’s been my experience anyway.” Akira walked forward towards the door, and noticed upon further inspection that the door was locked. He couldn’t open it no matter what he tried.

“Maybe they cannot attend to the door twenty four hours a day? Have you ever been to Mementos this late?” Akechi asked, flanking Akira’s right.

“No. Never this late. What about you?”

“Me either.” The realization that the twins could possibly have the ability to sleep sat upon their minds. If not that, then…

“Well it’s not like we came here for this. We need to find my shadow. Preferably soon. Do you have any way to determine where my particular shadow is?” Akira turned around, nearly gasping at the sight he saw behind the brunette. Standing behind Akechi with a smirk and one hand resting on his hip, electric yellow eyes boring holes into Akira’s own, was his exact copy. His shadow. Akechi turned for a second, realizing what was happening and hovering in front of Akira protectively. The reflection simply grinned wider and stretched out its jet-black wings that were attached to its back.

“Hello, Akira. Have you come to face the truth?” he asked in a sickly sweet growl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all know what song he sang, don't lie to me.
> 
> If not then just look up the lyrics.
> 
> Thank you for reading and hopefully everything next chapter won't be a total hell-fest. But it should be close.
> 
> Don't forget to comment! I do love it when people talk to me about this crazy good stuff!


	4. Sleepwalking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was the strangest feeling in the world.
> 
> The feeling of your own skin not fitting correctly over your body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know the drill. Song for this chapter down below / There are lyrics~BE WARNED
> 
> Right click to loop: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lyaa4HEG_vI 
> 
> As always thank you for reading!

Akira could only stare at the reflection of himself. His eyes wide in shock just as his shadow-self’s were narrowed in an unbreakable gaze. His mirror image wore an unrivaled poker face as his pupils narrowed toward the brunette in between them both, but still kept their focus on the ravenette. The teen couldn’t look away—it was like he was being pulled into those electric yellow eyes, unable to escape lest he meet certain death. But he did not feel threatened by his other self. No, if anything Akira was more afraid as to why his mirror-image radiated rage and fury in waves even when his entire demeanor was calm and collected. It reminded him of how he acted as Joker. He knew now why everyone was so afraid of him when he was angry.

“Akira,” his own voice--although slightly more demanding and refined--spoke out into the room,” We need to talk.” He sounded exactly like Arsene.

“A-Arsene?” Akira could only stutter out the word as he kept his eyes upon the reflection. He could feel the gaze burn brighter into his own, but it was not harmful. It felt like praise in a way. The teen saw a small smile tug at the other’s lips.

“That’s right.” His shadow breathed out into the room, moving his hand away from his hip to dangle lightly at his side. Arsene started walking forward with a pace that knew no bounds. There would be no stopping him. Akechi stepped directly in front of Akira before speaking.

“Keep your distance-“

“And what are **you** afraid of? There’s nothing I can possibly do now that you haven’t _already_ done.” Akira’s other half turned his gaze at the last second, acidity dripping off of it when those eyes landed on the brunette’s form. Akechi grimaced at the remark but kept his stance.

“You just couldn’t stand the fact that you couldn’t have Akira all to yourself! If you can’t have him, then nobody can, isn’t that right?” The shadow pointed his finger directly towards Akechi, eyes glaring daggers into the brunette’s eyes with a fire that must have originated from the depths of hell. The onyx wings spread their full span behind the reflection, the air rushing wildly about whilst doing so. Ink-black feathers littered the air and floated haphazardly about the room. Akira would have thought it a beautiful sight if not for his other half raging on in front on himself.

“That’s the _only reason_ you even went that far—to use that cursed ability on _him_ —was because of your childish temper.  Don’t give me your excuses, _boy_ , because they’re bullshit.” Akechi flinched back at the words, staring back at Arsene with a scowl plastered on his face. The shadow closed the gap between himself and the brunette, both of them glaring at one another with a passion to kill. Akira went to step in between the two if only to avoid a bloody confrontation before a sudden surge shot through his body.

 _“Stay there.”_ It said with a firm resolve. The ravenette obeyed.

“The only reason I haven’t torn you to shreds yet is because Akira wouldn’t forgive me if I were to do so.” Pure venom laced every word as Arsene spoke to the former detective, whose eyes widened in a mix of guilt and rage. Akira only continued to stare as all of the words Arsene left in the air came to rest upon his heart. They were heavy with truth and laced with vicious hellfire.

“Not that you would win that fight, thief.” Akechi lashed back, still glaring those crimson eyes into the golden ones before him. The remark only made Arsene smirk and return his hand to his hip once more.

“So you could kill us both at once? I highly doubt that, murderer.” Akechi simply breathed, hand trembling at his side. It was all the boy could do to stay calm, and Arsene huffed, satisfied with his verbal slap to the face. He turned to Akira after allowing the smirk to fade, and held out his left hand.

“Come.” It was all the teen needed to hear. He took the offered hand and saw the jet-black wings circle around him. Akechi made a disgruntled gasp as Akira was pulled close to his shadow-self, clinging onto the front of the hoodie that Arsene wore and felt the heartbeat underneath. It was powerful, pounding loud into his ear as words directed at the brunette left Arsene’s mouth.

“Sorry, show’s for paid member’s only.” And with one more smirk, the shadow covered Akira in the entirety of the wingspan. He gasped as he felt the world spin; closing his eyes when he thought everything was moving too fast. He clutched harder at the fabric underneath his fingers and he swore he could have heard a whispered ‘ _breathe_ ’ next to his ear. Warm hands had already wrapped themselves around his waist, and he was glad when everything finally settled down. Akira cautiously leaned back, opening his eyes to see Arsene smiling before him.

They were both sitting upon an old concrete cot. It looked strangely familiar as Akira tried to scan the room. The wondrous wings that had adorned Arsene’s back were gone—he looked exactly as Akira now—and he could see they were in his cell within the Velvet Room. The teen could only stare back at his shadow dumbfounded.

“How are we-“A hum vibrated from Arsene’s lips as he cut off his other self.

“The Velvet Room is merely a reflection of the state of your heart. We are within ourselves at the moment.”Akira blinked. That’s right, wasn’t that how the attendants described the Velvet Room to him in the first place?

“I see.” Akira allowed his hands to fall to his lap, still keeping eye contact with the reflection. “You wanted to talk?”

Arsene nodded his head.”It is of upmost importance, after all.”

“Okay then. Shoot.” He watched as his other half dropped all notions of humor and focused on the words coming out of his mouth. One hand had rested itself on the teen’s shoulder.

“You need to allow yourself to _feel_ , Akira.” The boy was taken aback. Allow himself to feel? What did that mean? He thought he’d allowed himself to feel many different things, especially as of late.

“What?” Arsene sighed, but kept his current facial expression.

“You need to stop repressing your emotions. Allow yourself to feel them, experience them once again.”

“I wasn’t aware I was repressing anything.” Akira tilted his head, clearly confused. His other self sighed once more, but this time much deeper and drawn out.

“You do remember when you committed suicide the first time, correct?” Akira’s skin paled when the subject was brought up. He could still feel Joker’s hands around his neck and he lifted his own to paw at the flesh. Nothing was there, of course, and he stared back at Arsene who was still awaiting his answer. Akira nodded.

“That was the start of it. You’ve been forcing your emotions back, putting everyone at arm’s length--there is a fire that is burning you up from within. Continuing to smolder it by ignoring it will get you nowhere.”

This time it was Akira’s turn to sigh.

“Ignoring it? You mean my friends and family?”

“It’s not just that! The revelation revealed to you while under his sick spell-” Arsene stood up, eyes narrowing only slightly. “You’re trying to forget these emotions; ones that you felt while in that dream-state.” Akira stood next, turning away from his shadow with an annoyed huff.

“Is that such a bad thing? Why can’t I just set them aside for now and deal with them later? There’s so much we have to tend to right now-“

“Akira, you can’t put this aside. It will fester and mutate and it will _consume_ you otherwise. As your shadow and your other half, please-“Arsene moved closer, hand returning to his shoulder as Akira looked over it to face him. “Listen to me.”

“I don’t have anything _to_ feel! It’s like I’m **empty** , Arsene.” Akira felt his voice cracking as he continued onwards, ignoring the mild shock accompanying that golden gaze. “How am I supposed to feel? I saw such horrible, gruesome things! Makoto, Ann, Ryuji…Everybody was mocking me and laughing as they used me for their own gain! Sojiro didn’t give a damn, and everyone left me alone! I was almost _raped_ -“The fresh tears that stained Akira’s face stung against his pale flesh and Arsene grasped him by both shoulders and pulled him close.

“Akira-“The voice coming from the warmth sounded so worried, concerned and full of guilt and anger. It only made Akira shudder and screw his eyes shut.

“It was all real, _everything was so real_. It’s too much! I can’t-“Akira couldn’t continue, grasping onto his other self as his knees buckled and he dropped to the floor in an emotional fog. Arsene simply wrapped his arms around the boy in order to comfort him. More tears spilled out of his eyes before he could stop them, and sobs wracked his body and tore through the never ending silence.

“How am I supposed to _feel_!? Tell me how to feel! Please…” the muffled cries leapt out into the air and Akira felt something piling up in the pit of his stomach. Arsene tensed around the boy and leaned back, staring deeply into those slate grey eyes.

“You already know my answer.” Akira knew he was right. He grasped far too tightly at the cloth under his fingertips and felt blood pooling where he’d bitten his bottom lip. His eyes flared wide and he looked back up at his reflection again. This time those eyes were dead-set into Akira’s own. A mix of various emotions filled his face and Arsene grasped harder onto the shoulders in his hands.

“Give into it, Akira. Let yourself feel it--the hate, the anger, the fear--everything.” Akira shook his head violently, and felt the hands gripping harder at his shoulder. He winced in pain as the aura in the room grew dark.

“ ** _Let yourself feel the rage!_** ”Arsene bellowed out into the room, and Akira felt the dam burst on his emotions. He started to scream, loudly at the top of his lungs. More of the salty tears fell down his face as he forced his fingers to curl into the palms of his hands, feeling the sharp sting of pain as the nails bit into the flesh. He wanted to cry and scream and throw something. **Break** something. It didn’t matter what. Everything was a hazy shade of red as he continued to wail, focusing his frustration on the reflection in front of himself. He hated it; feeling betrayed and numb and so utterly helpless against himself. He _hated_ himself.

“Why weren’t you there? Where were you when I needed you the most!?” Akira screamed at his own shadow, beating his fists against the other’s chest in a rage. Arsene did nothing to stop him, but continued to grip the teen close to himself.

“I was so scared! Everything was so damn _horrifying_ and you weren’t there! You weren’t…” Akira was pulled closer to the shadow, feeling more tears drip off of his face like a waterfall. The motion only served to make him more furious.

“You left me alone with those _men_. I…I couldn’t even protect myself…” Slowly, the flurry of pain and hatred ebbed. He stopped pounding his sore hands into Arsene’s chest and allowed himself to be pulled into a tight embrace. Any rage he had directed at his other half started fading from his mind. He continued to cry and wail into his shadow’s shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, Akira.” Arsene whispered into his ward’s ear. The words only served to make the teen cry more, but they did feel comforting somehow. They were almost like a promise; to never let something like that happen again. Akira hadn’t even realized when Arsene pulled him into his lap, which was now cross-legged on the floor, pushing the hood back and beginning to stroke his hair. They sat like that while Akira cried and sobbed to his heart’s content.

“Just let it out. Let it all out, Akira…” Arsene cooed into the young man’s ear. He hiccuped and closed his eyes, melting into the embrace he found himself in. The gentle caress of a hand running fingers through his hair felt comforting. The other hand was rubbing circles onto his back, melting the tension and unease left behind in his muscles. He was exhausted and frustrated with the world. Why did those things have to happen to _him_? Why was the universe so hell-bent on making him miserable and empty? Akira only pushed further into Arsene’s form, conforming like a puzzle piece into his shadow-self.

Eventually, the sobs and hiccups came to an end. Akira wiped the tears away from his face with the back of his shirt sleeve, and took a few minutes to regain his composure. Arsene waited patiently, continuing to message the teen’s back. As soon as his muscles relaxed and he felt his breathing return to normal, Akira leaned back from his reflection and allowed a small smile to plaster his lips.

“Thank you…for everything.” Arsene simply smiled back at his ward.

“Of course. Anything for you, Akira.” The teen slowly raised himself to his feet, making sure to let out one final, steady breath. Akira closed his eyes for a second while doing so, clearing his mind of any lingering unease before facing his shadow once more.

“So what happens now?” Arsene stood, one hand returning to his hip as he chose his words carefully.

“There are still things you must face before I can fully become your persona once again. But those are things you must face on your own, outside of the metaverse.” Akira tilted his head and sighed.

“So what do we do until then? I can’t exactly run around the metaverse defenseless.” Arsene smirked.

“Who said anything about defenseless?” Akira stared at his shadow, intrigued.

“What do you mean?”

“I can at least offer you the smallest amount of my powers, however helpful they may be.” Arsene reached out, offering his hand once more to the young man in front of him. Akira took it without any hesitation and embraced the cerulean flames that began to slowly cover his body. There was no real heat to them—if anything they felt only slightly cooler than his normal body temperature. They flared to and fro as he witnessed his metaverse outfit being burnt onto his form. When the last of the flames left him he did a small turn-around, looking at the outfit with a mixture of joy and awe. The familiar scarlet gloves adorned his hands as he flexed them, the ink-black coat flush against his skin, boots tapping the floor with a light, comforting sound. He turned his gaze back to Arsene and smiled.

“You never cease to amaze, Arsene.” The reflection hummed approval as he crossed his arms over his chest, looking the teen up and down.

“I would like to hope so; I am you, after all.” Akira laughed, before reaching down to his side to check for his standard weapons. His gun was holstered to his right leg as per usual, and when Akira thought of the dagger it appeared in his hand without fuss. He twirled the hilt of the weapon and allowed it to fade back to nothing when he no longer required use of it. He let out a satisfied hum.

“This will do fine. Thank you.” Akira allowed his right hand to rest upon his hip as he turned his gaze back to Arsene.

“Are you ready to return? You must be exhausted after today; it would do you well to rest.” The teen nodded his head, and when prompted he grasped Arsene’s hand once more as the world swirled and he found himself back at the front of Mementos. Akechi was still standing off to the side, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a dark expression on his face. He looked up from the floor when he saw Akira’s form.

“Welcome back.” Akira felt the hesitation the older boy gave off as he spoke. He turned his gaze back to Arsene who was staring at Akechi with an unrestrained suspicion. The teen did not flinch away when he felt a familiar hand rest upon his shoulder.

“I shouldn’t have to tell you what I’m thinking.” Akira knew. It was as plain as day; _Keep an eye on him._ _He’s trouble._ The ravenette nodded his head and turned back to Akechi when Arsene finally disappeared.

“Is it done, then?” Akechi eyed the younger boy nervously, darting those crimson irises over his form and cautiously walked forward.

“I can’t summon a persona, but I can protect myself at least.”Akira moved the sides of his coat back, shoving his hands into his pockets. Akechi blinked and let out a small sigh.

“It’s more than expected, I suppose. Shall we be going?” Akechi gestured to the stairway and Akira nodded, walking forward a few feet before stopping. He turned back to see Akechi hadn’t yet moved from his spot, eyeing the floor with a mixture of emotions on his face.

“What’s wrong?” Akechi seemed to jump out of his skin at the sound of the ravenette’s voice. He raised his hand to tuck a stay hair away from his face.

“About what he said earlier…He’s right, you know.” Akira sighed and turned to fully face the brunette.

“I know.” Akechi took a step back, eyes wild for a second as he processed the words coming from the younger boy’s mouth.

“Then why are you still-“

“Because,” Akira started, making sure to look Akechi directly in the eye as he did so, “I’m only one bad day away from being _you_. It’s just hard to say if that bad day has already come or not…”

And with that, the teen turned on his heels and swiftly walked towards the stairs, determination in his eyes. After a few quiet seconds, Akechi followed behind him.

__________________________________

It wasn’t that long after the two got back to the apartment that Akira had flopped himself onto the bed, groaning out in tired comfort. Akechi followed him in and sat down in the chair off to the side, rolling his eyes at the younger boys display. Akira fished out his phone from his hoodie pocket and quickly texted Ohya the information she would need. He had no problem tossing his phone onto the side of the nightstand and sinking deeper into the bed sheets, curling up into the soft comfort. Even though it had been a somewhat busy day, he still felt the pain of the bruises in his side and on his wrists. That combined with his exhaustion only intensified them more; the bedding was a blessing at that point. The teen opened his eyes to look over at Akechi, who was half asleep in his chair just as he had been that morning; arms crossed, eyes half-lidded. Akira sat up on the bed, reaching for the first aid kit that still sat upon the nightstand.

“Hey, if you’re falling asleep then get over here.” The teen rummaged through the kit, pulling out the gauze and ointment he needed for his wrists. He had already unzipped the hoodie, and was glancing back up at Akechi when he spoke. The brunette turned his half-asleep gaze onto the ravenette.

“Do you want me to help you with that?” He older boy gestured towards the bandages. Akira shook his head as he removed the hoodie and started rolling up his right sleeve. Akechi raised his eyebrows.

“Then why do you want me to go over there?” Akira paused for a moment, making sure to look up and stare at the boy in front of him.

“Um, to sleep on the bed? Duh.” The teen rolled his eyes, making quick work of the bandages on his wrist and opening the tube of ointment. He made sure to put a generous amount onto his hand and smooth it over the skin, wincing at the cold cream but relishing the relief that flooded over the sore flesh.

“I’m perfectly fine sleeping here, thank you.” Akechi settled back into his chair a little too noticeable for Akira’s tastes. The ravenette just wrapped up his wrist neatly and then started on the opposite hand.

“Don’t be a brat, there’s plenty of room.” Akechi glared at the younger boy as he finished the wrist and began to put the materials he used into the kit. Akira set it back onto the nightstand and began to stare back to the older boy with a stubborn flare.

“You really want me to sleep with you on the sole bed in this apartment?” Akechi had raised an eyebrow in annoyance. Akira smirked.

“It’d be better if the one persona user out of us didn’t get knots and kinks in his muscles from sleeping upright in a crappy old chair. I don’t mind sharing. So, for the final time--Get. Over. Here.”Akira placed emphasis on the final words through gritted teeth. Akechi seemed too tired to argue any further, instead he stood from the chair and made his way to the opposite side of the bed, practically falling down onto it and sighing in relief. A quick tap to his shoulder and one gesture towards the hair clip later, Akechi had set the ebony metal onto the nightstand as well and pulled the covers up over himself. Akira followed suit and turned the lamp that was illuminating the room off, soon falling asleep next to the older boy.

Akira was next aware he was standing in a hallway. Everybody he knew was there—the thieves, Sojiro and the other adults, Mishima, Hifumi, Shinya, and the twins. Everyone was standing in the hall, their backs against the wall as the various people were lined up in two, neat rows down the corridor. Makoto was standing in front of him, smiling brightly.

“Come on, Akira. It’s almost time.” She took his hand in hers, dragging the confused boy down the hallway. Every person they passed as they walked smiled back brightly at them.

“Time for what? Where are we going?” he asked, still allowing her to lead him. She looked over her shoulder and giggled.

“You’ll see.” She answered, turning back to the hall in front of her. At the very end of the hall she stopped, directly in front of a heavy metal door. She knocked upon the metal and turned to face Akira completely. He was lost. What were they doing? How did they even get in the hallway to begin with? All those thoughts melted away when the brunette pulled him closer and kept the vice grip on his hand.

“Your reward is in there.” She gestured to the metal door, which had been unlocked and left ajar from its frame a few inches. _Reward_? He stared at the door, then back at Makoto, then to the door again. She whispered a silent ‘Go on’, and he felt his feet taking him into the room.

It was dark. He couldn’t see anything within it. The metal tap of the floor against his shoes was the only sound, and it reverberated loudly throughout the room. He glanced back and saw the various faces of his friends and family staring back at him. A hand was placed upon his shoulder and it squeezed hard, turning his attention away from the hall.

“Have fun!” Was cheered by all of his acquaintances before the door was slammed shut. He could feel the hand gripping hard and Akira winced, raising his own hand in the darkness to the one sitting upon his flesh.

“Stop it.” He spoke into the cold air. More hands appeared on his form, some on his arms and legs, holding him in place as many more began to travel underneath his clothes. He writhed and gasped when the ice-cold touch of fingers gripped at his hair and he felt his clothes being removed. The light in the room came on suddenly, and he looked up from the painful tilt his head had been placed in to see the same three faces of the men in the interrogation room. The teen’s eyes widened.

“Stop fighting. This is your _reward_ after all…” The man in the familiar blue suit cackled, and Akira began to scream--

When he jolted awake, the twilight streaming in through the window was the first thing he noticed. The second were the tears streaming down his face. The final thing was that he was curled up into a warm body. His mind was too groggy and still dispensing adrenaline to register the fact that he could feel arms wrapped around his back. The nightmare that had woke him up left its mark with a faster heartbeat and muddled understanding of his surroundings. After a few seconds of panting and a small whimper, he blinked his eyes once more and was startled when he realized he was less than a few inches away from Akechi’s face.  Moonlight illuminated the room and he could see the calm and soft expression the sleeping boy wore was pleasant, it exuded comfort and peace. Akira wished he could see that expression on this boy’s face more often. He felt the urge to pull away from the warmth in front of himself but refrained, too sore and content with the position. It didn’t bother him. It actually felt quite nice. The teen tried to control his panicked breathing and found his hands were pressed against the front of Akechi’s shirt and he could feel the lean muscles underneath--the teen never realized exactly how muscular the older boy was. The gentle grip holding him in place was locked and screamed that there was no breaking it.

It felt nice. It felt _safe_.

After a few minutes Akira was finally beginning to calm down, still encircled in the warm embrace when he heard the older boy groan and open his eyes, staring right into the slate grey ones before him. Akechi’s breathing hitched and a blush quickly arose across his face and he pulled his arms away slowly, almost as if he thought the younger boy was still asleep enough to not notice the action. Akira smiled and sniffled, rubbing tears from his eyes as he kept his short distance from the brunette. He could feel the heat radiating off of Akechi in waves.

“’Hey.” Akira spoke first, mumbling under his breath. His voice wavered and he could hear the unease resting within the word.

“…Hey.” Akechi murmured, still flushing a soft, pastel pink. He gasped when the younger boy pushed further into his chest with a small mewl as the warmth he felt began to fade.

“Don’t….it’s nice…..”Akira’s half-awake mind whispered into the air, closing his eyes as he melted back into the warmth. Akechi didn’t argue, but simply returned his grip on the younger boy. The teen was still breathing slightly faster than he should have been, but he was too sleep-induced to care.

“Bad dream?” He whispered, slight concern filling his voice. Akira nodded into the brunette’s chest.

“Mhm.” Akechi kept quiet but pulled the younger boy closer anyways.

“It’s still early yet, go back to sleep.” The older boy whispered into his ear, and Akira was grateful for the mutual understanding. Within minutes the teen had drifted back to sleep peacefully, curled up comfortably in Akechi’s arms.

And this time, there was no nightmare waiting for him.

____________________________________

When Akira came to, he felt fingers brushing themselves through his hair in a gentle, slow motion. They would start at the beginning of his bangs and run themselves slowly towards the back of his head, repeating the process every ten seconds like clockwork. He mewled and nuzzled further into the warmth he felt below him, before opening his eyes and realizing he was on _top_ of someone. They breathed and he felt their chest rise and fall beneath him. The teen flushed red as he looked upwards to see Akechi glancing down at him, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Good morning, Kurusu-kun.” If Akira could physically die from embarrassment, it would have been then. He made a sound resembling a startled yelp and pushed off of Akechi, sitting up on the bed and remembering what had happened the night before.

“A-Ah, um…s-sorry…” he stuttered out, looking away from the brunette as the flush across his face turned a darker shade of scarlet. The older boy sat up and chuckled.

“There’s no need. It was adorable, really.” Akira gritted his teeth in annoyance. Akechi thought he was adorable? _Great._ Add it to the list of things that Akechi had surprised him with recently. The ravenette wasn’t sure if he should be angry or flattered. So instead he scooted further away from the brunette and grasped his hoodie which had been tossed haphazardly to the floor the night before, pulling it on in quick motions. Sighing into the air, he pulled his hood over his head once more and sat cross legged on the bed.

Akechi had long since gotten up and began to smooth over his clothing. In his exhaustion he had forgotten to change clothes and his vest had been wrinkled. The brunette turned to look at Akira through his bright crimson eyes.

“Are you hungry? I can make breakfast.” Akira could feel his stomach spasm at the thought. He didn’t want to eat but his body was screaming for food, so he sheepishly nodded his head after a moment of contemplation. Akechi hummed and left the room, walking down the hall with a casual pace. After calming himself down from his mild embarrassment, the teen decided to follow after the older boy.

When he arrived in the dining room, Akira saw Akechi moving around in the kitchen. The brunette turned his head over his shoulder and motioned for the younger boy to sit down at the table. He complied, sitting down in one of the wooden chairs and watching as the older boy went through the small fridge he had, eventually emerging with two balls of onigiri and store-bought miso soup. He began to prepare the soup the way the package directed as Akira decided to inquire about something he had on his mind for a while now.

“So why hasn’t anybody come looking for us here yet?” Akira couldn’t help but think one of the stray conspiracy dogs that remembered them would have at least checked Akechi’s apartment, or Futaba and her grand knowledge of computers would have traced them back here. Akechi stirred the soup, not looking away from it as he responded.

“This apartment isn’t in the name ‘Akechi’. It’s not traceable back to me.” Akira’s eyes widened a little, and he began to fiddle with the string of his hoodie.

“Hm...” _Smart_ , he thought. Of course the apartment wouldn’t be in his name. Akechi was too prepared for this kind of thing, and that only made the younger boy worry. He remembered what Arsene had radiated throughout his being the night before. _Keep an eye on him. He’s trouble._

Akechi finished preparing the food and brought it to the table, setting the steaming soup and one onigiri in front of Akira. They both said their thanks and began to eat in silence. The teen had trouble finding the will to scarf down the food, but tried his best to do so anyway. He at least got most of the miso and rice eaten before he cut himself off, unable to eat much more. Akechi finished his portion not too long afterwards. Once the table was cleaned they both sat down at it once again but for a different purpose. Akira knew they needed to talk about Mementos and the thieves. If they were going to pull off the heist they needed to get Akira’s problem out of the way first. Akechi seemed to at least share this view by the way he looked at the ravenette expectantly.

“So, what’s the plan?” Akira tilted his head in deep thought at the words.

“We need to deal with my demons first, right? So we need to head to Mementos sometime in the next few days for that. Then we need to head all the way down to the depths without getting caught…and deal with whatever’s down there. How are you on supplies?” Akechi ran through numbers inside of his head, one finger resting on his chin before he replied.

“I’ve got medical supplies in abundance, among other things. What about you? Did you retain any of your materials?” Akira vaguely remembered checking on that as they had left Mementos the night before. He nodded his head in response.

“Yeah. I’ve got everything I had prior to losing my persona.”

“Then that takes care of supplies. Who are we going after in Mementos?” Akira practically stopped breathing as the words left Akechi’s mouth. He kept his calm as he spoke up.

“I don’t know their names, but they’re on the police force. You may be familiar with them.” Akechi raised his brow as the teen spoke, calm and collected as ever.

“Police? Do you mean the ones that were part of the interrogation team?” Akira visibly flinched when the word left the older boys mouth. He exhaled once before replying.

“Just three of them, if that helps. I only vaguely remember what two of them look like but…” Akira could still remember the burning amber eyes as they bore holes into his soul, looking down on him as if he were trash on the side of the street. He shuddered. “I can describe the leader in detail. If we can only get _him_ , then I’ll be satisfied nonetheless. The other two probably wouldn’t go doing anything rash without that bastard around.” Akira hadn’t noticed he had begun to grip tightly onto his arms, which were crossed over his chest. His fingernails dug into the fabric of his sleeves and he felt the sting of pain underneath them. Akechi focused intently on the information, making a small ‘mhm’ sound as Akira talked.

“Alright then, describe him to me.” Akira didn’t want to even remember what the man looked like, but he did so nonetheless and watched as Akechi nodded his head after a while, seeming to remember the man with the striking amber eyes and dark blue business suit.

“I believe his name was Fuzen. Fuzen, Retsu. He left quite the impression.” Akira could only nod his head in agreement. Akechi took notice of the extremely out of character unease and silence that followed.

“So why him in particular?” Akira snapped his eyes up into the scarlet ones before him, breath caught in his throat. He could feel his skin burn under the gaze and had to force himself to stop gripping at his arms so tightly. He had no intention of telling Akechi, much less _anyone_ about what happened in the interrogation room. The teen bit his bottom lip and looked away once more.

“Let’s just say he was the one who caused the most damage.” Akechi took the answer and nodded, leaning back in his chair. Akira was relieved when the older boy did not press him for more details than that.

“So when do you want to do this? It’s still morning; we may get caught if we go into Mementos now.” Akira agreed, since it was probably also still too early for Ohya to intervene in the thieves business. It was a school day—and exam season--but that didn’t mean Ryuji hadn’t skipped in order to look for him, or Futaba and Morgana to be out looking for him at that hour. It only made sense to wait until the afternoon. He pulled out his phone from his pocket and made sure to text Ohya to let them know when she found Makoto and got the information from her. All that was left was what to do in the meantime…

“We’ll wait until five or six. For now, let’s just wait for our journalist friend to get the information.” Akechi nodded his head, satisfied. Akira leaned back in his chair and felt his eyes droop. He was beginning to feel extremely tired once more. His sleep must have been shorter than he thought. The brunette noticed this and stood, leaning over and resting his hand against the younger boy’s forehead, checking for a fever. When he didn’t find one he sighed in relief.

“Why don’t you rest in the meantime? We’ve still got time before nightfall; it should do you well to rest a little more before then.” Akira ran through his options. There wasn’t much they would need to prepare beforehand, since most of their supplies were housed in the metaverse anyway. It also sounded appealing as all hell to take a nap. He nodded his head slowly after a minute, allowing himself to be lead to the backroom. The teen never even realized Akechi had taken his hand.

Akira crawled into the bed and threw the covers over himself, hood still hiding his face from view. Akechi sat on the other end of the bed, making sure to look over the ravenette as the boy shifted to get more comfortable. Akira met his eyes and kept contact with them. He briefly wondered if he would have another nightmare, before he found himself reaching out and grasping the hand that was resting on the comforter of the bed. Akechi looked down and stared at the contact for a moment before turning his gaze back to the teen.

“Stay with me? Please…” Akira rasped, sounding like a totally different person. Akechi tucked a stray hair behind his ear and nodded, scooting closer and allowing the younger boy to rest his head in the brunette’s lap. The teen sighed and closed his eyes, melting into the contact.

“Rest easy, Akira.” Neither one of them even noticed the slip of tongue as they drifted off toward sleep once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may have been the shortest chapter yet, but it was needed. Fleshing things out and thinking of everything you need does take time.
> 
> Besides I gotta remind you this fic had horrible things in it somehow ~~HAHAHAHA~~
> 
> ~~Also if you get the meaning behind the fuckface's name then you get a gold sticky star~~


	5. Rage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How much does it take to give into the basest desire in the world?
> 
> Too little, it seems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've made my decision. What's yours?
> 
> RIGHT CLICK TO LOOP (Instrumental): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9L7mZH2u3Qc
> 
> LYRICS and rock so be warned: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gI7bAvr8WSc 
> 
> Thank you for reading~

Akira had slept for a few good hours, but he still felt exhausted after he had woken up. Anxious fretting and nervous ticking kicked into high gear the closer it became to the designated time to leave. After the initial nap with Akechi by his side, the teen ended up sitting cross legged on the bed, left to his thoughts as the older boy sorted through things once more to make sure they were both prepared. And in the silence that followed him everywhere he went, Akira could not stop his mind from racing through various thoughts and scenarios. He knew he did not want to face this terrifying man’s shadow, even if Akechi--who was the strongest persona user he knew—was by his side. What if he was too strong? Would they both be killed? What if the shadow recognized him? Would he try something like _that_ in the metaverse? All the possibilities only made the ravenette’s stomach churn and he could feel his hands shake with the chemical mix of adrenaline, fear, rage and unease bubbling up inside of him. Clutching his phone tightly in his hands waiting for Ohya’s signal was all he could do to keep from breaking down from the stress and crying.

After Akechi had finished double checking everything inside of his briefcase, the brunette walked back into the room to see the trembling sight of Akira on the bed, face hidden beneath the hood he wore but the grimace plastered on his face nonetheless. His knuckles had turned white from grasping at the phone, limbs locked into place painfully as he held the object to his chest. The shallow breathing that emanated from him was barely present. When Akechi thought to approach the teen, he made sure to move slowly, calling out his name in a soft whisper.

“Kurusu-kun? Are you alright?” Akira barely heard the boy through the noise of his mind. He looked up from his fixation on the phone and met his unfocused eyes with that of the scarlet ones in front of himself. He couldn’t speak. The only way Akechi knew the boy had heard him was when he nodded his head ever so slightly.

“What’s on your mind?” Akechi offered, sitting down on the bed in front of the ravenette. He managed to pull the shaking hands away from their position, allowing Akira to replace the phone with his hands instead. The younger boy gripped hard at the hands in front of him, as if he were steadying himself. _Breathe_. The word echoed into his mind, silencing most of the noise in his mind. He let out a shaky breath.

“…Everything.”  Akechi’s thumbs ran over the sides of his hand, slow and gentle, attempting to ease the tension in Akira’s muscles.

“If you’re worried about the Mementos run, don’t. Everything will be fine.” Akira tried his best to believe as he sucked in a deep breath, allowing it to fill every pore inside of his lungs before slowly pushing it back out. After a few more times of doing the same motion, he nodded his head in agreement.

“You’re right. I just…it’s not a good idea to leave me alone right now.” Akira turned his gaze away from the crimson irises before him. Akechi hummed in understanding.

“Well then, I won’t leave. We’ve still got time before nightfall. Is there anything you want to do before then?” Akira couldn’t think of anything off of the top of his head. Nothing sounded appealing; he just wanted to get this over with. The sooner the better. Shaking his head side to side, he pulled the brunette closer to him. Their foreheads were almost touching, and Akechi was practically kneeling into the younger boys lap whilst he spoke.

“You’ve grown so comfortable around me as of late…” Akira sighed, eyes unfocused and dull as he nuzzled into the nape of the older boys neck.

“Yeah, seems so.” He sounded like he had died, raspy wheezes leaving his throat sore and burning for air.

“I wonder why…After everything that I’ve put you through-“Akira was in no mood for his self-loathing.

“Don’t. Not now.” Akechi shut his mouth, knowing better than to argue at the matter. It took a second for Akira to realize he had used his rare ‘ _don’t fuck with me’_ voice. That tone alone rivaled Makoto’s deep, burning stare from hell.

“Alright then. We can stay like this for a while, sound good?”Akira nodded just as his phone buzzed. He jumped back at the noise and looked back up at Akechi and hesitated for a second. After being given the go ahead nod by the older boy, he reached out for the phone and checked the message that had been sent.

**She’s hopping around Akihabara with some bespectacled girl. They don’t seem to know where you are, Aki-kun!**

His fingers were flying so fast across the digital keyboard he’d misspelled more words than he typed correctly, making him sigh in annoyance when he had to go back and correct them.

**Alright. Keep her busy and let me know when you’ve lost her.**

It only took a couple of seconds to receive the reply.

**Gotcha!**

Akechi glanced over Akira’s shoulder at the phone, raising his brow and turning to the younger boy before speaking.

“Is that our cue then?” Akira had shuffled himself off of the bed and made quick work of crossing the hall. He’d already slipped on his shoes and was unlocking the door when Akechi finally rounded the corner ready to go.

“Let’s go. If we’re going to beat them to the station, now’s the time.” And with that, the door was shut behind the two boys, silencing the apartment once more.

___________________________________________

“Alright, remember; if magic comes into play, you’re up. You should have every attribute, correct? Leave the physical and gun based attacks to me, and try to save your strength when you can.” Akira adjusted his gloves as he continued to walk briskly down the stairs to Mementos. Akechi was following closely behind him, nodding his head out of the corner of the ravenette’s eyes.

“If we’re injured, use our healing items before magic. If it becomes too dangerous, fall back and we’ll try again another day.” Akira’s gaze and demeanor hardened as soon as he had stepped into the metaverse. As per usual, it was like he’d become a completely different person. There was no small trace left of the trembling, uncertain Akira. There was only the confident leader that Akechi had grown used to in such a short time with the thieves. The only thing missing was the familiar domino mask that once rested upon his face. Akira could feel the calm but deadly fire that radiated off of him in shock waves as he descended the stairs with the older boy hot on his heels. He felt as if Akechi was struggling to keep pace for a moment.

“And our handles?” Akechi asked slightly out of breath. Akira had long thought about their nicknames and came to the conclusion that it didn’t matter if they changed them. Soon the thieves would be aware of their presence once they realized the metaverse was gone. Or if they were tracked through Oracle’s support skill-set.

“We’re keeping them. It’s only a matter of time until they catch on.” If anything it only made the use of a call-sign more easily available if they were using the same ones they’d been using for months. Crow simply stared at Joker as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

“If that’s what you think is best, leader.” Joker visibly flinched when he heard the end of the sentence, but continued to walk forward into the depths. Since they were walking on foot it would be a while before they got to their destination. Crow had some ability in order to sense targets, after all he’d been doing it for years, but it only stretched so far. All the dark striped boy could do was let the other know when they were finally getting close. And Joker could only sense other users and shadows within the vicinity. Arsene was trying his best, but in his current state it wasn’t even safe for the shadow to materialize into the world without there being the present danger of killing them both.

The first few fights were difficult. Joker was not adept at playing support as much as he was the ruthless tank of the team. Even so, he did well to remember enemy weaknesses and even got a few attacks in of his own before the shadows melted into goo before him. Crow was effective and only got winded once, but never let his guard down enough to get seriously injured. The black clad boy made sure to always be prepared to use the medical supplies they brought with them. Joker could still access the mental space in where he kept most of his various tools and items. In extreme emergency, he had five weapons that emulated each kind of attribute and made sure to have one of each on him at all times.

After the duo had successfully infiltrated the subway system to Kaitul, which took less than an hour and a half, they had stopped at one of the rest stops near the middle of the floor. It did well to give them a sound break after the various mediocre shadows that had tried and failed to stop their progress.

“How are you fairing so far?” Crow was sitting on one of the subway benches, elbows pressed into his knees, as he stared at the ravenette across from him. Joker had leaned as far back as his body would let him and tilted his head to rest on the glass window.

“Not bad, considering I’ve basically been following you this whole time.” He hated to admit it, but Crow was doing the majority of the work. It didn’t help his wounded pride that he had to stand back and watch as many of the battles were fought and won victoriously.

“You’ve been doing wonderfully as a support, but I wasn’t talking about that. I meant your physical condition.” Joker winced in reply. The trek down that far had affected both of them heavily, his feet were sore and he could’ve sworn blisters were beginning to form. Crow shared the sentiment as soon as he had lifted his feet to rest on the empty seat next to himself.

“I’ve done enough walking to compete in a marathon if that’s what you’re asking. I don’t think I’ll need exercise for a year.” Crow chuckled into the air and shifted his position. Joker let his mind wander for a second before he straightened himself out on the bench and thought carefully.

“Do you sense him yet?” Crow stiffened in thought for a moment before shaking his head.

“Sorry, no. We’re already half way though, that means it can’t be much further before we run into him.” Joker turned his gaze towards the floor and sighed. It would have to do. Hopefully changing this one specific heart will feel all the sweeter the when the time finally came. It was hard not to just ask Crow to not bother and burn the man’s shadow to a crisp. Maybe revenge was better served burnt and flayed. The ravenette shook his head, clearing such thoughts from his mind. Fuzen was as atrocious as Shido in his mind, but he didn’t deserve to die just yet. If anything the boy would get a kick out of watching as the police carted one of their own off to jail.

“Keep me posted.” He spoke, before pushing off of the bench and stretching once he stood. Crow followed suit before both of them heard a loud crash coming from a floor below them. The two snapped their heads in the direction of the downward escalators and then back at one another to make sure they weren’t both going crazy.

“What was that?” Crow asked as he cautiously took one step forward.

“Not sure.” Joker replied, already gripping for his knife and digging the hilt into the palm of his hand. They approached the stairway with extreme caution and peered over the edge. The darkness at the bottom of the stairs was murky with dust as the particles wafted through the air towards them. The duo turned to look at each other once more before silently agreeing to check it out. Crow descended first, hand already gripping tightly at his mask and ready to summon Loki at a moment’s notice. The teen behind him only felt his heart pang that he could not do the same and made sure to keep a close eye on the gun in his holster.

Crow stepped off of the bottom stair and looked to both sides, his head tilted as a grimace fell upon his face. He turned his head to the right and began to walk forward, motioning for Joker to follow. They both felt a particularly powerful shadow in the direction they were heading in, and tensed up as the corridor they walked grew a darker green. Crazed laughter filled their ears as a silhouette stepped into view. Crow made sure to step in front of the ravenette in order to block him from the eyes of the shadow they dared to stare into. It was an extremely unusual shadow, an amalgamation of a half-changed mementos target and a Kin-Ki brand of demon. The sight was nothing pretty as the black ooze that flowed front the shadow spread out over the floor, underneath their feet. It made a sickly sloshing sound, almost like it was too thick to flow properly. The crazed laughter rang out again and before Joker knew it, Crow was pushing him back.

“It’s getting ready to do something! Retreat!” Joker did not hesitate, making sure to put meters of space between himself and the brunette as he summoned Loki to his call. The black ooze stretched further, and it curved and started falling from the ceiling in large globs, splattering the two in the fluid.

The figure howled in fury as he saw Crow, far too gone to make any rational thought as it lunged forward at the jester, clawing wildly at him before Loki was casting a magic spell upon it. Fire burned and seethed at the ooze and like ash it faded into the air. More howling deafened the two boys as the monster recoiled, pulling back into itself before trying to lunge again. This time ice froze over his form, curling up his arm with the club and breaking the hand off at the wrist. It shrieked once more before settling its gaze on Joker in the background. A crazed smile lit up the shadows face as he pointed, a coherent thought surfacing above the wails and cries of an animal.

“ **Disperse** ” it hoarsely cried, and the ooze that still clung to Joker began to circle around him, encapsulating him as he cried out. He reached once for Crow who was staring back at him in shock as the fluid covered him fully, unable to breathe as he felt the sticky substance flow down into his throat and nose. His heart was beating too fast and his lungs burned as he tried desperately to breathe. No matter how hard he kicked out the ooze did not leave him, he was trapped in it with no way out. Joker was unable to see, hear, or feel anything; only the horrid burn of his lungs and muscles was known to him as he flailed. It did not take long for him to pass out from the lack of oxygen.

When the boy came to, he was leaning against a wall in one of the large corridors. He quickly sat up, spitting the vile liquid from his mouth and coughing his throat raw as he gasped for air. The ooze was nowhere to be found, and he searched around him for traces of the substance. A few drops littered the floor but other than that one small sign there was nothing. Joker’s mind raced; How long had he been out? Where was Crow? Was he alright?

He stood and looked around, brushing the remaining goo off of his coat as he noticed the familiar violet walls stained with black accents. He was no longer on Kaitul. This was Akzeriyyuth, the area below it. _How in the hell did I end up here?_ Joker looked down both ends of the corridor and, out of options and probably time, he started off to his right. He pondered the thought of calling out for the older boy but decided against it in case he was ambushed by any particularly powerful shadows.

Joker walked that path alone, wandering around on sore and tired feet as he met dead end after dead end. He finally had to turn back and walk the way he had chosen not to go to first place when he thought he heard a familiar voice.

 _I sense someone here…_ Arsene spoke calmly into Joker’s mind. There were only so many people who it could have been, and he could hear faint echoing down the path immediately to his right as he came to the intersection. It was masculine, the hiss of pain that shot into the air. The teen turned the corner to see two things. The first was Crow, sitting against the far right wall clutching his side right and coughing up blood. The second was the impossible to ignore familiarity of the broken subway tracks as they sat uprooted and twisted on the ground. It looked just like one of the pocket dimensions that lay within Mementos, hiding a target or two inside. But this time there was no black and red haze as the ravenette started running towards his fallen companion.

“Crow! Crow, are you alright?” Joker sputtered out, kneeling down and placing his hands on the older boy’s shoulders in order to keep him upright. There seemed to be a large gash in the brunette’s side when one crimson glove gently tugged at the bloodstained one of the boy in front of him. It was fairly deep, not enough to be fatal but enough to bleed and cause Crow to wince out in pain when his fingers brushed the wound accidentally.

“Y-Yeah…That shadow…Loki finished him at the last s-second.” Joker had already begun to sort through medical supplies, pulling out bandages and one of the various tubes of ointment that would be able to close the wound up at least somewhat in the boy’s side.  Crow focused his gaze onto the younger boy and smiled half-heartedly. “Too bad he didn’t account for damage control.”

“I’ve never seen a shadow that could scatter us like that.” Crow winced as the cream was smeared carefully onto the wound, which had already begun to heal. In the metaverse all of their medical supplies had the odd effect of working much better and ridiculously fast. Many injuries that should have left permanent scars or damage left none in the wake of Takemi’s fantastic concoctions and the sheer power of not giving a damn about the repercussions of such matters. It only made sense; if you weren’t worried about the scars, there wouldn’t be any left behind to think about. Joker could only silently thank whatever mechanism of the world had allowed such a thing to happen as the wound started to close, still displaying bright pink as bruises raced to form over the healthy skin around it.

“I’ve never seen a shadow like that _period._ ” Joker turned his gaze upwards from his work, as he had already begun to apply a patch of bandaging to the affected area in case the shallow healing decided to open up. A glint of the unknown and fear shone in the scarlet eyes that be looked into, feeling his own gut wrench in response. Crow was right; there hadn’t been shadows that were half-formed and could separate people before. Was this an effect of the public’s state of mind? If so, _why_? He gripped the tube of ointment in his hand a little harder just before another jolt shot up his spine. There was mild concern in the voice that rang through his head. _Someone else is-_

Before the ravenette could turn around, there were already soft footsteps walking towards him. The familiar grey armor that shaped her body so tightly sent waves of fear and relief through him. Her familiar brunette hair was slightly jostled, her headband shifted at a strange angle as she held onto her left arm with her right hand in a pose that screamed pain. The girl breathed in short breaths, pants almost, as she gasped and leaned a little to her right, focusing her weight onto her foot as her familiar persona rode beside her, ready to catch her in case she were to fall. The familiar mahogany eyes that he had always sought in order to find guidance were now the one thing he wished he didn’t have to look into. They were wide with shock and various emotions clouded them over as she winced through her teeth.

“Joker...You…You’re okay.” Queen had managed to breath out, eyes teary as she gave way to a shy smile. The ravenette’s heart stopped for a second, contemplating how fast he could run away or if he really just wanted to stand there and take in her appearance. God, she looked the same as she had days ago—mere days was the only separating factor and Joker realized he’d felt like _years_ had passed since the psychotic break—and the boy couldn’t help but stare at her. He made no sound as he stood, hand trembling as he gripped onto the tube tighter. Crow had turned his head and acknowledged the other brunette with a grimace before the girl finally turned her head down to look at him. She was even more wide eyed as her expression changed from happy to contemplating.

“How are you still alive? What’s going on here.” Her gaze flicked back to the younger teen and he couldn’t bear to break the eye contact as she took one more pained step forward. Anat inched forward in accordance to make sure the girl did not yet fall. Queen was in pain but she still kept her focus planted on Joker. It was suffocating, unable to break away from her gaze but also trying to ignore his every instinct screaming at him to _run_.

“We should ask the same of you, Queen. How did you get down here…and why are you injured?” Crow tried to be a little less menacing as he spoke, but the unease in his voice did not go unnoticed between the three of them. The girl only glared at him once before taking another step forward, grimacing as she did so.

“I wasn’t talking to you, _detective_.” The brunette turned her expectant gaze back to Joker, eyes softening as she continued onward. “We were so worried…we thought you had died down here.”

Joker couldn’t breathe, much less move as his mind raced. He knew she had to be real, not just some sick delusion his mind had conjured up in a hurry in order to torment him. But even then he could not bring himself to trust her. Arsene tried to shake the boy from his thoughts with comforts alone, but when that did not work he felt a hand unseen by them all grasping at his own and squeezing hard. The familiar sensation of finally being able to breathe ran through him, before he gulped and thanked his other half in his mind, opening his mouth to speak.

“I didn’t mean to…things are just so…complicated.” Joker could barely whisper his comment before he found the girl directly in front of himself, their eyes never leaving one another.

“I’m just glad you’re okay. I thought I felt the other’s presences over here but…” her eyes widened, finally realizing something as she looked into the steel grey eyes above her.

“Wait, you were separated from the other thieves?” Crow asked, pulling one of his splayed legs closer in order to try and stand. He winced in pain but continued the motion nonetheless. She nodded her head in response.

“Yes. We were fighting these unusual shadows…I thought I felt one over here but, it’s strange.” Queen reached her hand upwards, setting it on the side of Jokers face as if making sure what she saw was not a figment of her imagination. The teen tried not to flinch away from her touch, instead keeping his gaze focused on her and trying to keep his breathing steady.

“I feel it coming from you, Joker.” The ravenette stilled, silent as he let the words sink into his mind. He felt a shaky breathing leave his body as the girl straightened and turned back to Crow once more before returning it back to his own. “Joker, where’s your mask?”

Everything began to crumble in his mind as he thought about the weight of her words. If his presence was coming off as a shadow then there was no way she wouldn’t make the connection to his sudden loss of power. He stepped backwards from the girl and into someone’s chest before he turned around violently, trying to push them back. A gentle red hand grasped his wrist as he was in the middle of turning. Arsene stood behind him, wearing the same familiar outfit, those electric eyes staring into his own with pain and the will to calm his ward down. He turned his gaze to Queen as she gasped, taking a step back and her hands flying up to her mouth in a half-cover.

“We’ve no time for this now. Something is here, can you sense it?” Arsene jested, allowing Joker’s hand to fall back to his side. He was right; there was a strong presence on this floor. It was strange, like static had begun to fill their ears and scribble onto their hearts. The air was saturated in thick, hungry rage. It seeped into Joker’s bones and he flinched, darting his eyes around to watch the other two do the same. It must have been a ridiculously strong presence in order to allow Joker to feel such a thing without Arsene telling him inside his mind. Queen shook her head to the side and winced; taking a step back as Crow finally grounded his feet and stood. Something was approaching them fast, and they had to get away from it **_now_**.

“We need to go-“Joker was cut off as the wall beside them was obliterated, the pure force of the concrete and metal shattered sent the group flying across the room. Joker’s head hit the wall behind him with a loud _crack_. His head spun and his vision blacked out, seeing different colored bursts behind his eyelids as he grunted. It took a minute to recover; his hand had already reached up to grasp the back of his head when he felt blood drip down onto the back of his neck. The teen shivered and looked around at the concrete mess.

Queen was lying off to the side, wincing in pain as she tried to move. A sharp cry left her lips when a particular motion sent waves of pain through her body, causing it to spasm. Crow was pushing chunks of concrete off of himself as he huffed into the air. Joker stared at the brunette’s for a moment before scurrying over to Queen, even his irrational fears dying at the back of his mind as it raced over the louder possibilities of her injury.

“Queen!” Joker shouted, crawling over to her and tilting her onto her back, seeing the large chunk of metal sticking through her shoulder blade and gasping as she cried out in more pain. He made sure to set her gently in a more comfortable position as he looked around to the newly formed hole in the wall. His stomach dropped when he recognized those same burning amber eyes he hated so much.

“Well, well, well…look at what we’ve got here? Three little thieves ripe for the taking! It should be fun killing all of yo-Hey, I know you.” The gaze of the man shifted around the room before finally settling on Joker. He felt his skin flare with goose bumps at the gaze and forced the seething rage he felt to the back of his throat with a hard gulp.

“You’re that brat from work. Funny catching you here….” The creeping laughter that echoed off of the walls and into the room only increased the tension and caused Joker to flinch. Queen had grunted, looking over at the man across the room with eyes that were glossed over in pain. She managed to breathe out a sentence through the fuzz, still clutching onto Joker’s hand as she did so. The teen never even realized he had been holding it.

“Who are you…?” she tried through gritted teeth to inquire, but was met with even louder cackling laughter as the man tilted back on the balls of his feet. The same laughter Joker had heard in the interrogation room. He wanted to cut that man’s tongue out and make sure he could never laugh such a way again. The sole focus of his gaze was on the man in blue just twenty feet away from himself; he never saw Crow’s worried and questioning gaze as the older boy stood and raised his hand to his mask, preparing for a particularly strong fight.

“Who am I? I’m your worst fucking nightmare, baby.” Joker growled at the words as they left the older man’s mouth, eyes dripping acid through his gaze. Arsene was within him again, sending a wave of calm through the teen. _Don’t let him get to you._ He knew he couldn’t, but it was tempting. The amber gaze bore into Joker’s soul as he smirked at the teen.

“Fancy seeing you here though, maybe we can finish what we started? Sound _fun_?” Joker flinched once more, this time rage running shivers down his spine and throughout his body. He hadn’t realized he was practically clawing at Queen’s hand until she winced and through her painful, adrenaline filled gaze shot him a sharp look. It died when she saw whatever was in the teen’s eyes.

”Joker, what’s wrong?” The brunette tried, lifting herself into a sitting position with his help as he tried his best to stay calm. The boy was radiating hate and rage into the room, trying not to take his eyes off of the older man lest he move and go for one of them. Crow had stumbled his way over, helping to raise the girl to her feet as more howling laughter filled the room. The shadow of Fuzen bent over cackling at the stares he was receiving from each member of the group. The ravenette still refused to speak for fear that he would start screaming if he did so.

“Joker, huh? Is this your little girlfriend? Does she know what I’m talking about over here?” The teen growled under his breath, hissing out words that were seeped in the vilest anger he had ever felt in his life. Arsene’s pleas died down the more the boy stared at the man.

“Shut up.” Queen gasped at his words, looking from the familiar slate grey eyes that were now burning with a strange hellfire, to the amber ones of the man across from them. A hand raised itself in front of her form before he could register he had done so. Crow simply kept his cautious gaze upon the man in front of them.

“Did I hit a nerve? What, you can’t tell me they don’t _know._ ” A pause, and then from the shocked expression the being etched onto its face, began the howling laughter once more. Questionable glances from the other two only caused his barrier to crack further. They couldn’t know about the events that had plagued him. They could never find out about this.

“ _That’s enough_!” his teeth twisted and grinded against one another as he spat out another warning.

“This is rich! So neither of your friends know about what happened in that room, huh? Some friends…” The shadow kicked some concrete next to his foot before taking one step forward. Joker moved in front of the other two and was practically hissing at the man. If he hurt Makoto, or Akechi…no. **_No_**. Akira wouldn’t let him.

“What’s he talking about?” Crow inquired, still trying his best to support the wounded girl and make sure he wasn’t causing her further pain.

“Don’t!” Joker hissed over his shoulder, turning back to the cackling man in front of him. He was getting closer. A strange aura of red and black began to haze around the boy as his rage intensified.

“Oh, do you need some info? Maybe I should give them a little show. You know, actually get to _take it_ this time. Unless, you want me to personally show your little girlfriend just how much I made you **_scream_**.”

And with that, Joker _snapped_.

He felt all of the rage and hatred boil over into his shriek, dashing forward as the black and red mix of magic he hadn’t even realized he was summoning radiated out around him. The thought of how it was even possible didn’t even cross his mind. The concrete chunks broke at the contact, bending and twisting the metal as he darted toward Fuzen with his knife outstretched. The man hadn’t fully anticipated the attack, but when a stark black form oozed out from the aura and promptly slammed the man back through the hole in the wall and into the other room, he gasped. So, apparently, had the two teammates behind him. He didn’t care. He wanted to make this bastard _bleed_.

Fuzen had barely recovered from the shock before Joker was on him, slashing down the man’s chest and getting one clean cut in before he had to dart back to a safe distance. The man’s skin was smoking where the ooze had touched it, leaving bloody red burns all across the flesh as his left arm was exposed to the open air. The shadow screeched, muttering curses before focusing his glare upon the boy. Joker once again lunged at him, avoiding the flames that began to be thrown towards him as the aura sucked in all of the rage and the rattle of chains filled his ears. They reached out and lashed at the man, he barely being able to dodge them before finally getting slammed hard in the face by one. As Fuzen’s head reeled backward, as if he had been slapped, blood splattered into the open air and Joker could feel a sickening smile plaster his lips.

“Joker!” Queen’s voice rung out in his ears as he didn’t allow the chance to go to waste; he prompt closed in, raising his leg he swiftly kicked the back of his head, sending him flying across the right room. The teen never even registered the fact the kick was impossibly inhuman, even for him. The sickening thud and the new burns that spread across the man’s skin only ignited the flame of rage and insanity riling within the boy. He saw the darkness that surrounded him expand and as he let out a horrifying, crazed laugh, the chains went flying along with it. They rattled in the air and more debris was crushed, dismantled, cracked and broken around him. The absolute terror on everyone’s faces only caused the laughter to ring out louder.

“Go ahead, touch me; **I. Dare. You.** ” Another sickening crack leapt out into the air as the chains rained hell upon the older man, screams leaving his lips as bones snapped. The sounds only drew more lunacy from the boy, feeling the need to go further. _Break_ more _. Bleed_ more. **_Kill_**. It wasn’t until Joker was standing in front of the shadow, gun pointed to his forehead that he spoke once more through the crazed mix of sobs and laughter.

“Tell me your grand plan! What will you do this time? Break my ribs? Rip my fingernails off? Or are you going to finish trying to, what did you call it? ‘ _Fuck me into submission_ ’.” Joker wasn’t sure when he had started crying, but he felt the tears falling down his face and onto the floor in front of him with every word. A sharp gasp sounded out behind him but he didn’t know who it originated from. He didn’t care. His mind was far too clouded with static noise screaming at him to pull the trigger. To _end_ it. The man in front of him only stilled at the words. He was ready to shoot right as a hand grasped his shoulder.

“Stop it Akira!” It was Crow. He wasn’t sure for how long the older boy had been calling his name, but his head snapped to the side when he heard it shouted next to his ear. The frightened boy looked desperate—it was the same look of desperation he had shown when they faced each other on Shido’s ship. Those bight scarlet eyes glazed over in pain and sorrow. His lips opened wide in another attempt to rouse the teen out of his rage. The grip of fingers digging into flesh made Joker wince and for a second, he remembered his surroundings. He glanced over Crow’s shoulder to see Queen slumped against the far wall, eyes watching his every move and pure shock plastered over her face.

“Don’t make the same mistake I did.“ The words reverberated throughout Joker’s being. It shook him to the very core. It took a second to register what he was about to do. He was about to kill this man. The teen shuddered, jerking back into Crow’s grasp as he dropped the gun to the floor. A sharp wail left his lips as he did so, allowing himself to collapse into Crow’s form. Violent sobs shook his body as he turned to the brunette, grasping onto something, anything that would keep his hands from trembling. They found comfort once the older boy had pulled him close, grasping onto both hands as he whispered into the ravenette’s ear. “He’s not worth it, Akira.”

Joker was unsure of exactly how long he sat there, losing himself to his emotions as his rage died down. The dark aura that had once ebbed and flowed from him dissipated, and he noticed Crow was untouched by the darkness. No wounds on him. He was grateful he had not injured him during his rage. The brunette helped the younger boy to stand, guiding him away from the man before he could try anything. Crow, however, turned over his shoulder and muttered darkly.

“You’ve learned your lesson. Get out of here.” The shadow did not hesitate to fade away, leaving some object behind in its wake. It didn’t matter. What they came to do was done. Joker felt ten times more tired and afraid. What if he had killed him? He didn’t want to know what lay beyond that possibility. Queen was still leaning against the wall, trembling as the two boys walked over to her. She let out a muffled sob as they approached.

“Oh god…Akira. “ It seemed everyone was forgetting to use the code names, but it didn’t matter. Joker was still shaking and trying to catch his breath as he stared, eyes unfocused as her hand reached out and touched his face. The teen backed away from her touch, not wanting to be under anyone’s fingers except Crow’s. He didn’t want to snap again, or set another wave of emotions off. She tried her best not to show her subtle shock at the motion.

“We need to get you two out of here.” Crow spoke, trying to ease the remaining tension in the room. Joker simply nodded, feeling too empty and muddled to care. Queen whispered her approval before she winced once more, the metal bar still sticking painfully out of her shoulder. Her eyes drooped and she would have fallen to the floor had Joker not caught her. She needed to be healed, badly. He didn’t hesitate when Arsene appeared beside him and nodded his head. _Do it_. Joker carefully pulled the jagged metal from her shoulder before the gentle spray of cyan and beige magic hovered over her wound. It closed within seconds, and there was no longer any reminder of its presence aside from the rip in her uniform. Crow watched, shocked at the event but only letting it show in a small sigh. Queen was already out of it by then, nodding off into Joker’s chest before he slowly picked her up into his arms. He turned back to the brunette before whispering softly.

“Let’s go.” Crow nodded his head as they started towards the exit.

He didn’t ask Joker exactly how he’d healed her, though.

_______________________________

The cold water that pelted his face only did so much to numb the dull sensations running through his mind. How far would he have gone? It only made him feel worse as the same words circled around in his brain. The same scene kept repeating and replaying over and over inside of his head. The sickening crunch of bones breaking. The sharp whip of the chain as it was dragged through the air. Piercing screams that ricocheted off of the walls and into his eardrums. Akira pulled his arms closer to his chest, crossing them as he allowed his head to fall back and take in more of the numbing sensation.

They had left a fully healed Makoto at the entrance to Mementos, when they felt the presence of the other thieves emerging from the depths. Nobody seemed to be hurt, and Akira was glad. That meant nobody had died in the strange event that forced them onto the different floors, in a seemingly random order. Honestly he was more surprised that he and Akechi had not run into another thief on their ascent. The whole time the teen carried her, Makoto slept peacefully aside from one small mewl she had made when he set her body gently onto the floor next to the Velvet Room. Nobody was waiting outside the door, but he was sure even Caroline would not allow harm to come to her in the meantime. It was extremely late as they left the metaverse, they must have been out for hours. The ravenette ignored the ping of his phone when he returned, he was sure it was Ohya’s response that she’d lost Makoto. It didn’t matter now. Even as the boys walked slowly back to the apartment, nothing was said between them. Akira walked like a dead man as soon as he left the metaverse, allowing his feet to take him straight to the bathroom as they returned to the apartment. He needed something to distract him from his confusing and hazy thoughts. The high from the rage he had experienced left a bitter taste in his mouth and a foul touch upon his skin. He felt the need to wash it away as quickly as possible.

Again he tilted his head back, eyes closed as he grew far too cold for his own good. It had been a while since he had jumped in, and he could tell he would need to leave soon. A gentle knock on the door brought him back to reality as he weakly responded.

“Come in.” Akechi walked in, his hair brushed behind both of his ears as he turned his gaze to Akira. The boy never realized he had been sitting in a ball on the ceramic. When did that happen? The brunette sighed and turned the water off, reaching down under the wash basin for a towel. He began to dry the younger boy off with soft, caring hands.

“Are you feeling better?” Akechi whispered, as if raising his voice would shatter the small peace between them. The ravenette did not reply, did not even move as he allowed himself to be dried off.  A minute passed by in silence before he tried again.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Akira didn’t. He never wanted to talk about his problems. It always seemed to slip by him that he had to, at some point, deal with his own bullshit. Like he wasn’t some strong, confident hero. As if he was human. He didn’t ever think he would find someone just like that in the world and that they would be the one asking him about his problems. The teen turned his head to the side, finally meeting Akechi’s gaze before he opened his mouth.

“In the interrogation room…I was so high on whatever they gave me I didn’t even realize what was going on at first. Everything was over; the confession had been signed. They didn’t need my cooperation anymore. God, I was so tired, in pain, dazed…and then they started talking. Small things, like what they were going to do after work. And then he just…That man…” Akira didn’t bother crying. He had cried enough for one day. The ravenette only made sure his gaze connected with that of the scarlet irises in front of him.

“They tried to rape me, Akechi…they were so close…It could have been any of us in there but it was me. I can still feel them touching me…“Akechi didn’t wait, wrapping his arms around the younger boy in a firm but soft grip. His breathing was ragged as he pressed the side of his face into Akira’s shoulder. The ravenette didn’t realize the older boy had started crying until the warmth of the tears fell down onto his sensitive skin.

“I’m so sorry Akira! I’m so…I didn’t know…It was supposed to be quick--your death--and they took it so far! I never wanted this.” The teen couldn’t believe his ears. Akechi was apologizing to him? Surprise didn’t cover what he felt. He took a deep breath and released it, making sure it hurt before he place his hands to the side of Akechi’s face. Pulling that face in front of himself, he stared into those wet eyes once more before replying.

“I not mad at you; I’m just pissed at the world.” And with that, he leaned in and pressed his lips to the boy in front of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all know what's coming next. Get ready.


	6. Monochrome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And after all of their pain and rage, something wonderful happens.
> 
> And _damn_ if it didn't feel good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See those fancy new tags? Read them and take them to heart!
> 
> MUSIC:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K1-i6iryNxA ~~(be warned of the first 50 seconds being quiet, and the ending words hehe)~~
> 
> Happy Easter readers~ Thank you and enjoy~

Akechi had pulled back from the kiss reluctantly, not seeming to realize how many long seconds had passed as their lips curved and formed into one another’s. Akira could only blink and slowly allow himself to expel one shaky, unsteady breath. Those warm hands that still sat upon his shoulders began to move, caressing fingers into the gentle outline of his collarbone. The ravenette shivered at the touch.

“Let’s move this somewhere comfortable, shall we?” The teen could only nod into those softened rose eyes as they met his own. Time began to move once more as those gentle hands lifted along with Akira to their feet. He had barely a moment to breathe before Akechi decided it would be better to pick the younger boy up into his arms. It only took one swift motion before the teen felt his feet dangling in the air, arms wrapped around the brunette’s shoulders as their gazes locked.

It was such an interesting view, Akira thought, when he saw the raw emotion within the older boy’s eyes.  There was a touch of gentle, almost sweet concern lying within. There was also a slight hesitation as the body that held the ravenette began to move; walking out of the bathroom and towards the bedroom, towels discarded beside the bath. The icy air bit at the teen’s skin but he paid it no mind. If anything, the warmth from the body holding him close was enough to keep his attention.

As soon as they entered the bedroom, Akechi made sure to set the younger boy down on the bed sheets as softly as he could. The remembrance that Akira was still not clothed flitted through his mind as a pink blush flushed across his face. But no matter what the teen did, he could not lift his gaze away from the boy in front of him. Akechi sat down on the edge of the bed, beside Akira. With an asking glance he sheepishly looked from the younger boy’s hand to his own. A small nod was all the brunette needed in order to clapse them together with a small, content sigh.

“I need to know…how far do you want this to go?” The voice was not harsh, but sweet as Akechi allowed a smile to tug at the corner of his lips. The ravenette swallowed before speaking.

“I want it to be you, Goro.” The brunette blinked once in quiet disbelief before reaffirming his focus into Akira’s steel grey eyes once more.

“Are you sure about this? It was only so recently that you were attacked.” That softened rose gaze fell onto the clasped hands once more, a gentle squeeze radiating from the union. “I do not wish to force you to make such a decision.”

Akira thought about it sincerely. Goro was so concerned with the younger boy he couldn’t help but chuckle in response. Yeah, if it had to be anyone it would be Goro Akechi. He wanted this so badly, not just for pleasure but for healing as well. Akira didn’t want to feel like those men were still there, staring at him out of the corner of his vision. He also didn’t want to give anyone else the chance to take this from him—if he was to give it to someone, anyone, it would be the teen before him.

“I’d rather do it now, here with you than give another scumbag the opportunity. I want to give it to _you_ , Goro.” The words barely left Akira’s mouth in a whisper, but were powerful enough to make the brunette’s head snap upwards.

“And what exactly does that reveal of us?” The younger boy knew what Akechi was talking about, and made sure to keep his eyes focused on the boy in front of himself.

“I don’t…love you, per se…But I know that I don’t want it to be anyone else. I _trust_ you, Goro. “The brunette stared wide-eyed at Akira before stuttering out a response. The ravenette himself was surprised at his own answer. It was complicated, sure, but he did feel like he _trusted_ Goro, despite all the bad things he had done.

“Y-You…Trust me?” As he averted his sheepish gaze, he tucked another stray hair behind his ear. The younger boy did not give him time to reply further.

“Yes, even after all you’ve done...It’s so strange. I feel like when it comes to this, you won’t betray me. Please…Do this one thing for me?  I ask this of you more as your payment for screwing with my head if nothing else.” The chuckle that lit up the room melted any tension there was between the two teens.  Gentle smiles spread across their faces as they allowed the room to quiet once more.

“I see. I feel the same way really—I don’t think I love you. You just…bring something out in me that I cannot explain.” Goro leaned closer, slowly closing the gap between himself and the ravenette below. Akira sucked in a nervous breath and tugged at the back of his front lip with his teeth.

“If you sincerely want this, then I have no reason to refuse.” The sigh of relief that cascaded like water into the open air was met with a glimmer of light from those same scarlet eyes. A smile spread nicely over Goro’s face as he leaned close enough to Akira to brush their foreheads together.

“I want this…I’m giving it to you and no one else.” The words fell naturally off of his lips as they were once again brushed by the soft skin of the older boy. The blush that had already flushed the teens face darkened at the ghostly contact. A shiver ran up Akira’s spine as the brunette’s right hand cupped the side of his face.

“I’ll take it slow. Don’t worry about a thing, alright? And if we need to stop just say so.” The thumb traced the cheekbone beneath the flesh and the ravenette mewled out into room. A hum of approval spread through his skin as Goro’s lips gently pressed against his own. This kiss was unlike any other Akira had—warmth grew between the two that seeped into every pore and fiber of his being. It was as if he was surrounded in the comfortable atmosphere. There was no threat here; only two teens allowing themselves to enjoy one another’s company.

It was reassuring. It genuinely felt nice on his heavy soul.

The kiss began to deepen, the older boy taking the lead as his hand slowly trailed down the side of Akira’s neck, turning towards the back and resting just below the hairline. A muffled breath escaped into the room as Goro pulled away slowly, staring back into those ash grey eyes with a small hint of lust. The younger teen sighed in absolute calmness and allowed his right hand to rest against the brunette’s knee.  Goro was still sitting with his legs tucked underneath him on the bed, but he soon repositioned himself to kneel next to the other teen’s form.  Akira arched his back as the fingers began to sway back and forth on the back of his neck, a soundless moan leaving his lips as his mouth opened wide.

“Feel nice?” Goro inquired. The teen nodded, moving his hand up to grasp at the left shoulder of the vest the other boy still wore. He tugged at it when the brunette lowered himself to start peppering slow, tantalizing kisses along the side of Akira’s jaw line. A light moan leapt out into the room.

“G-Goro…Ah.” The silky brushing of lips along his flesh continued lower, trailing down his neck before finding a place to linger; right where two of the muscles connected. Goro pressed into the flesh and allowed his tongue to swipe the spot before he began to suck gently. The feeling that overcame the area surprised Akira to say the least. It was not painful, but the different, wonderful feeling that radiated from that area only served to make the ravenette blush harder. The older boy noticed this and hummed in his work. The vibration mixed with the sensation made yet another mewl left the teen’s lips. He felt his face flush once more in embarrassment. Would he be this vocal later on as well?

When Goro was finished with that particular section, he lifted his head up to gaze at the mark left behind. Akira took notice and although he couldn’t see the mark, he knew the brunette was pleased.

“I take it…you’ve done this before?” Goro nodded before moving to another patch of skin to create the same effect there. The fingers holding his head upward flexed and began to lift him higher. Akira allowed his free hand to start fiddling in the bed sheets they laid upon as the older boy continued his work. Eventually Goro lifted his head once more to gaze back into those slate grey eyes below him.

“Everything good so far?” Goro’s hand allowed the younger boys head back onto the pillow before tracing the fingers over the soft bruises left behind on his neck and shoulder, before circling the final one he created towards the collarbone. The sound Akira made at this was something between a cat mewl and a mouse squeak. It must’ve been all the more amusing to the brunette as he chuckled into the air.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Yes-Yes everything is…so nice…”Akira couldn’t help but trail off as he felt himself fall back into the sensations, his hand falling to rest near his head on the pillow. Goro started to trail downwards on the younger boy’s chest just as soon as he relaxed. The teen felt the heat rising off of his body in waves. It was especially bad when he felt his own cock twitch at a particular patch of skin Goro decided to bite down tenderly upon.

“Ngh-Ah!” Akira tilted his head back into the pillow as the brunette licked the area, pulling away with a large grin on his face.

“You’re very sensitive you know.” The way Goro said it so matter-of-factly only made the thief flush darker.

“Making fun of me already…?” Fingers trailed across his chest before stopping at his right nipple, the light squeeze sending another shiver down his spine. He gasped and arched back into the sheets below him.

“No, more like…admiring beautiful artwork.” The murmur of words against his skin only served to send more of the wondrous feelings through his body. Akira let out a low moan as Goro leaned down to his left side; licking circles around the other pink flesh that rest there. The tingling that was left behind as the boy’s mouth continued pressing lower down his abdomen made the dizzy fog inside Akira’s head clear for a moment. In that time he looked down at Goro and met his eyes as they gazed at one another.

“I’m going to start moving lower. Is that alright?” The ravenette’s mind was still clouded over with pleasure as he mumbled a subtle ‘yes’, feeling the weight on the bed shift as the older boy moved his position between the younger teen’s legs. A small voice at the back of Akira’s mind was drowned in the velvety touch of fingers ghosting over his thighs.

“How far would you like me to go, Akira?” At first the younger boy did not know exactly what Goro was referring to, before he realized his crimson gaze was darting between the boys face and his half-hard member between his legs. The flush grew a deep scarlet for a second before subsiding.

“I want to experience everything, if that’s possible.” The boy’s gaze darted to the side for the split second he had spoken. Akira did not know when he had started to sound so out of breath, but it certainly felt like he was trying hard to catch it. Goro smiled and rubbed smooth circles into the younger boy’s thighs.

“Okay then. I’m going to start prepping you, alright? Give me a moment.” The experienced boy leaned over the teen below him in order to access the nightstand. Within seconds he had opened the drawer and pulled out a thin plastic tube before repositioning himself comfortably between Akira’s legs. After a few moments of silent contemplation, Goro began to unbutton the vest and slide it off, tossing it to the chair on the other side of the room. After the small gesture he popped open the cap on the tube and began to smear the liquid between his fingers.

“Is that…?”Akira trailed off, the burning on his skin much more apparent as Goro warmed the substance by rubbing it between his fingers. He distinctly remembered he had never used the liquid before. The small smirk the older boy allowed on his face was more apparent when he chuckled.

“Lube? Yeah, this will make things a lot easier. Don’t worry; I won’t put it on you cold.” His fingers now prepared, he scooted closer to the younger boy and with a slow hand and his gaze set on Akira’s the entire time for approval, he gently lifted his hips to better angle the first finger in. Only when Akira felt he was ready did he give the silent nod in order to allow the enigma in front of him permission. He hoped it wouldn’t hurt. With a steady breath and a calming gaze, Goro pushed his index finger into the ravenette’s hole.

The gasp that sounded throughout the room was filled with surprise and minor discomfort, but nothing painful or anything strong enough to elicit a memory. Akira felt his left hand tighten into a firm grip around the bed sheets as the finger rested within him.

“G-Goro!” the small whine erupted into the air when the older boy began to stroke the neglected member of his partner. Akira didn’t mind the multitasking—it certainly felt great--he just wished the brunette had said something first. The older boy simply smiled and fluttered his eyes once before humming out a response.

“Sorry, can’t forget about this too.” As the fingers of his free hand began to caress Akira’s cock, the teen let out a soft, light moan into the room and never noticed his own hips bucking upwards at the sensation.  Goro waited a moment before slowly moving his occupied finger in and out of the thief, which of course, elicited another unsightly gasp and blush. The hand the younger teen had on the bed sheets curled closed as he began to process the new information his body was receiving.

Everything felt great. Since when was this potentially-deadly teen on top of him so good at sex? He made a mental note to ask eventually, but decided against bringing it up now. After all, his mind was writhing in the pleasure on his flesh as the fingers kept a slow and steady rhythm caressing his skin. He felt his member harden as pre-cum began to drip out of his slit. His muscles were relaxing even further as Goro curled his one finger within the teen, a sharp cry escaping his lips as the older boy did so.

“Ah! G-Goro! What was-Ngh-“Akira felt his breathing increase drastically as that same spot within himself was brushed again, causing him to tilt his head back into the pillow he was now clutching with his right hand as his toes curled into his feet where they rested propped upwards on the bed.  An electric-like feeling bolted through his spine and towards his brain, blanking out any thought he had all the while raising his current state of pleasure to an all new high. His cock twitched once more and he could feel the fingers resting upon it squeeze and a thumb ghost over his slit, earning another cry into the air as its reward.

“You’re doing well, Akira.  So well.” Goro whispered the praise into his partner's ear just as he slipped another finger in. It was far tighter than before, but still not painful as the crimson eyed teen began to thrust the fingers in, alternating between straightening them and flexing them apart. The new wave of sensations that rose throughout the teen was indescribable—he could only melt into the bed sheets and whine out in ecstasy. Still the hand that held him pumped, matching the motions with that of the fingers as the heat reached a peak on the ravenette’s skin and he felt his muscles tightening in his lower abdomen. The teen was panting at this point; head pressed firmly into the pillow as he let out another beautiful mewl.

Goro smiled against Akira’s lips as they connected once more, the older boys tongue asking for entrance by swiping over his bottom lip. The younger boy allowed it, relishing the feeling of his tongue swirling together with another. It tasted so sweet, as if the brunette were coated in sugar, and didn’t mind it when he pressed his probing tongue in further to explore every crevice inside of Akira’s mouth. Between all of the sensations; the fingers thrusting within himself, the hand caressing his leaking member, and the tongue that was searching his mouth, he felt smothered by intense pleasure and all new noises began to leap out of his mouth.

“G-Goro! I can’t…I’m gonna-Ah!” The fingers only paused briefly as Goro leaned back, making eye contact with the writhing boy beneath him before humming out in the air.

“Don’t push yourself. Let it happen--don’t try and hold it back, okay?”Akira could only nod as yet again he arched his back, the motions becoming all the more faster as the fingers curled inside of himself and were dragged down hard against that one sensitive spot. The sound that left his lips was absolutely _obscene_ and one he had not ever thought he would have heard coming from himself before.  A part of him argued that Goro would remind him of it later, another part didn’t care. Everything felt far too good for it to stop due to an embarrassing squeal. Again he felt the pressure build steadily within his abdomen until he felt he were about to explode. The hand he had curled into the pillow was white knuckled as he tilted his head back, and with a low and throaty moan he allowed himself to come.

The moment he did his mind blanked out, eyes rolling in the back of his head as all of the nervous worry and unease left his body. He felt Goro continue on, riding out the younger boy’s high until his body fell back to the sheets from the arch he had been in. Panting filled the room as Akira tried to catch his breath, easing back into the softness of the sheets with a content sigh and allowing his eyes to close for a second. The warm liquid never reached his stomach, instead he noticed the brunette had insisted on lowering his mouth around the appendage and swallowed hard. The flush that appeared on Akira’s face was truly a sight to behold, he thought, since when the older boy pulled back and looked up, he allowed a playful smirk to rest on his mouth as he licked a stray drop of the semen from the corner.

“Showoff…”Those ash-grey irises huffed and darted his gaze away once they made direct contact for a second too long for his liking.

“You’re so lovely when you look at me like that you know…” The hand that had been stroking him came to rest on the side of his face, and he leaned into it eagerly. The motions of the fingers within himself stopped and pulled out. A whimper escaped into the open air as Akira felt the warmth leave him. Goro only chuckled before he leaned back and began to undress himself.

First he started with his button shirt, discarding it where the vest lay, before he began to work on his slacks. The obvious bulge in the fabric made the younger boy flush once more and mewl unknowingly.  Akira honestly wanted to feel Goro inside of himself. It was a wonderful thing when his mind began to race and think of all the possible ways it would feel, all of them extremely pleasurable and enticing. Eventually that fabric was kicked to the floor, boxers along with it as the brunette kneeled exposed to the world, cock hard and dripping with pre-cum itself. Goro situated himself back between the ravenette’s legs and he propped them around himself, fumbling with the bottle of lube once more as he coated his own member in the substance.

“Are you sure you want to do this Akira? We don’t have to-“Akira cut off the older boy with as manageable a smirk as he could muster in his half-spent daze, locking his ankles around the detective with a playful hum.

“I want you to. Please, do it. I want to feel you…”The thief’s pleas were almost a whisper and his voice was laced with unmistakable need. Goro smiled to himself and with an approving nod, began to push the fingers back inside of the younger teen. The first two felt familiar, but when the third digit entered, a small wince gnawed at the back of Akira’s throat. It wasn’t particularly painful, but as the rings of muscle struggled around the bony fingers he felt himself cry out quietly in the air, his head buried to the side within the pillow.

It took him a few seconds to realize the older boy stopped moving them, giving him time to adjust before they flexed and began to thrust slowly. With every thrust it became easier to tolerate the strange half-painful sensation, until a few moments later when it was no longer bothering him. Again he fell back into the throws of pleasure as wave after wave hit him and he felt his softened cock becoming hard again. The fingers worked meticulously, stretching him and preparing him with gentle and reassuring ease. It felt like Akira had died and ascended to heaven, his body in complete and total ecstasy.

Soon it became apparent that the fingers had done their job, finally exiting his hole with a soundless gasp. Goro allowed his crimson gaze to rest upon the younger boy for a few seconds before he grasped his own member and eased it to the entrance before him. He paused, however, and made sure to look Akira in the eyes before he spoke.

“Final chance; are you _absolutely_ sure about this?” Akira sighed sweetly into the air and lifted himself up onto his elbows just so he could better gaze into the rosy eyes above him. He reached his hand out and caressed the cheekbone of the brunette, earning a pleased hum in response. He wanted this. He knew Goro wanted this. There were no evil, horrible men there to force their hand at anything or take this moment away from the two teens. It was just Akira and Goro. The smile that spread across the ravenette’s face was priceless.

“I’m sure. I want you Goro, please…Do it.” The detective sighed into the air and leaned forward, grasping his free hand that had rested on Akira’s hip into the boy’s right hand. The fingers intertwined and a gentle squeeze reassured them both that what they were about to do was sound and one hundred percent agreed upon. Akira tensed a little as he felt the tip of Goro’s cock nudge his rim and he raised his left arm to wrap around the broad shoulders above him. A small gasp left his lips as it pressed in, slow and calculating. It was only when the whole of the tip was enveloped that Akira practically cried out into the room in a mix of pain and pleasure.

It was nothing like he had ever felt before. The fingers paled in comparison to the width of Goro’s member, slowly but surely inching into his hole. Akira felt his emotions betray him and he noticed the wetness swell at the corners of his eyes. The small, slight gasps and moans he let out into the room as the brunette buried himself to the hilt echoed off of the walls and back into his ears. He felt stretched, abnormally filled to the brim but it was not bad.

It felt utterly _salacious_.

And Akira loved every part of it, even the tinge of pain that radiated up his spine for a few seconds. He felt his hand grip tight against the muscular shoulder blade he had wrapped his arm around, his other hand squeezing hard against the fingers that encircled his own as they pressed further into the bed. The teen’s legs were locked in a tight pin around the experienced boy, and his head fell back into the pillow with the arch his spine laid in, mouth open wide in an unsightly display. Goro stilled inside of the ravenette, allowing him a few minutes to pass in order to grow accustomed to the newfound presence within him. The brunette was panting already, overwhelmed at the sudden sensation of his cock being tightly pressed against the warm and soft flesh of the younger boy.

After some time, Goro began to move. The first thrust was slow and teasing, deliberately moving out almost completely before pushing back in again. He did it once more, earning a high pitched moan as he angled the thrust just right. The smirk on his face was playful as he looked Akira in the eye and did it again. The flush across the emotional boys face only grew deeper with every sound he made.

“Goro! A-Ah!” The tightness of having someone pressing within him was driving him crazy. The heat from both of their bodies was suffocating and Akira could only grip tighter as the brunette thrust in once more, faster this time.

“Akira-fuck you’re so tight!” Goro panted out, trying his best to keep control and take things slow. Akira was slowly starting to lose himself in the pleasure and never even noticed when the older teen had wrapped his free arm around his back; lifting him off of the bed just enough to slam into him in exactly the right spot. Akira was practically _screaming,_ tears trailing down his face not from pain but from pure delight.

“G-Goro! _Ah_. Please, Please Goro don’t stop! Please! _Ahh_.” Akira pulled his head up enough to match Goro’s deep, lustful gaze.  The detective's head dipped down into a deep kiss as he slammed against the thief again, relishing the boy moaning out into his mouth. Their tongues collided and swirled together once more, every time the thrusting would increase in speed. The younger teen felt his abdomen slowly tighten and he fought to keep himself from rutting upwards as his member dripped pre-cum once again. His head was spinning and he had to pull away from the kiss to gasp for air, only for it to be spat back out into the air in a high pitched cry.

“Akira! Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to-“The sly thief cut him off with another deep kiss.

“Don’t stop! Fuck me, please Goro, fuck me harder!” The last part came out in a quiet whine as the brunette buried himself deep once again, making Akira finally give in and allow himself to fall into the depths of lust. He arched his back once more and tilted his head, squeezing the hand he still held in his own hard, nails digging into the shoulder blade he was still wrapped around. He slotted his eyes and allowed the sounds to fall freely from his lips as the pace increased; thrusts now coming in short bursts every few seconds or so. The tightness in his stomach knotted and his cock twitched painfully hard as it ached to be touched. Goro was panting hard above him, grunting in pleasure as he drew closer to the teen below him, their foreheads touching once more. Their gazes locked; scarlet irises set onto ash grey as a moan escaped them both, exchanged to only the other between them.

“I’m gonna- _Ah_ -Goro, I’m g-gonna cum! _Ngh_!” The brunette only smiled in return, leaning down to kiss his partner one last time before increasing his pace and angling the hit just right. Almost as soon as he hit that one spot within Akira, the younger teen screamed out in pleasure and came hard. Goro only needed one more thrust before he himself was gone, riding out their respective orgasms with gentle, slow thrusts. The warmth that filled Akira was intoxicating. Those ash grey eyes rolled back inside of the young teen's head, mind completely blank with ultimate pleasure and content with satisfaction. He kept his grip as the motions died down, soon Goro stilling inside of him as the ravenette slumped back into the bed sheets, that one strong arm still wrapped underneath him. He could feel his seed splattered over his stomach but was far too gone mentally to care. Everything had felt so wonderfully _good_ , something he had never experienced before. He almost wanted more, but was too exhausted to even try to move.

Goro pulled out of his partner, making sure to settle him comfortably on the bed before allowing himself to fall next to him. He mustered the strength to pull the ravenette towards him in a soft, warm embrace before he nuzzled his head into the curly ebony locks below him. They were both spent, clinging to each other all the while still trying to catch their breath and allow their bodies to recover from the intensity. Akira’s eyes were half lidded as he clutched onto the boy in front of him, a smooth sigh leaping out into the air. Eventually they had regained enough of their senses to speak.

“How was that?” Goro asked in a quiet, whisper like trance.

“It was perfect…so perfect…”Akira pushed himself further into the older teen, closing his eyes with a content sigh. A hand trailed up his arm and rested on his shoulder, brushing the fingers over the damp skin with an affectionate hum.

“Rest for now. We can clean up later.” The words were barely heard as Akira curled into the warmth, being led into a peaceful, nightmare-less sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was that good or was that GOOD? I'm proud of this in particular, since it's been years since i've even written smut. ~~MUHAHAHEHE~~  
>  ~~Also this is probably the shortest chapter I'll write for this story hehe~~
> 
> I have revised this chapter with a more diverse noun list so it should be a little better than hearing the same three descriptive's over again ~~and again, and again~~ _~~Thank you for calling that out Power you're a gift I swear~~_


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